Star Fox: The First Generation
by general whitefur
Summary: Every story has a beginning. Every person has an origin. Star Fox is no different. When the Arwing prototype being developed by Space Dynamics is stolen, James McCloud, Peppy Hare, Vixy Reinard, and Archer Lynx, have a chance to finally prove themselves. If they succeed, they will come away with not just a reward, but with their future assured. They will become Legend.
1. Here's Where the Story Begins

**A/N:** _Howdy doody everyone, general furfurfurfurfurfurfurfurFUR here, and I'm here to bring you this little thing I've been working on for the past nine months: Star Fox: The First Generation. Just a couple things I want to hit before we dive on into the story itself, sound good? (Those of you who aren't just skipping this)_

 _First off, this story is **done**. As in, every last bit of it has been written. The only changes I'm making here are cosmetic in nature. Fixing typos (lemme know if you see any, I guarantee I'll miss a few), making sure formatting looks decent, and making the occasional edit for continuity. Beyond that, this baby is locked. Now, I know what you're saying "Well then how will my input have any impact on furfur's writing then?" AH HA! Because, this story was a tremendous experiment for me. It is the longest story I have ever done by far, and the most complicated. So I need your suggestions. I need your critique. I need to know what worked. I need to know what you didn't like. Then, I can take all that into account as I write the next BIG THING. And, of course, you know my standard disclaimer that I might not always agree blah blah blah we're really talking about the sex here. _

_Second, this story is, at times, pretty OC heavy. I'm fairly certain I've made a good, solid cast of likeable, and in some cases utterly unlikable OCs. There's no fifteen year old human male with nike shoes or anything like that. This is just fair warning. I have lots of OCs, and in this era of Star Fox history, they're really needed to flesh out the story. So please, give them a chance, and just think of them as **characters** rather than OCs. _

_So, final note here. This story is M. It is M for a reason. There's sex. Plenty of it. James is incorrigible. That much I have learned. And Vixy's no slouch either. If it ain't yo thang, that's okay, but it sure isn't going anywhere. I think KS Reynard summed up my writing as "sex, sex, sex with role reversal, fade to black sex..." and all that. So...sure? I mean, I like it, the characters like it, and I'm certainly capable of writing stories without it *cough* Power of the Ancients *cough cough*. Now we're gonna move on._

 _Move on to where? The STORY! But first...a shout out to Groundis. My awesome friend Groundy Boundy Woundy, who was there for every line of this story, offering advice, keeping me going, keeping me in line, and reminding me to tell a story and not a universe. Thank you Groundy. This one is dedicated to you!_

 _Oh and, I probably won't be doing author's notes on every chapter. I'll do 'em on some, if I think it's warranted. But other than that, start reading! Because iz gun be gud!_

 _-FURfurFURfur_

* * *

 **Star Fox: The First Generation**

 **By FurFur**

 **Chapter One**

 _ **Here's Where the Story Begins**_

 _"Star Fox, you are cleared for landing."_

"Tower, this is Star Fox lead, we're coming in. Out." James McCloud nudged his fighter from the holding pattern they'd been maintaining for the last few minutes. He and his team were returning from an escort run that had taken them from Katina to Zoness, protecting a convoy of military supply shuttles. It wasn't the sort of glamorous job that James had dreamed of a year ago when he founded Star Fox, but it paid well enough, and it kept them in the rotation of merc teams in the Defense Force's good graces.

Beneath them, the blue and green orb of Corneria turned gently on its axis. In the distance James could see the brief flashes of visible light that indicated a ship coming out of or entering warp drive, the modern marvel that had made interstellar travel possible. Also visible from their orbital position, climbing out of Corneria's atmosphere like a single finger reaching for the stars, was the Corneria City space elevator. There were seven of them on Corneria, one for each of the major spaceports. Blue lights pulsed up and down them at incredible speed, each of them a pod carrying passengers and cargo up from the city, and down from the station at the top of the elevator.

Checking behind him he saw his two teammates, Peppy Hare and Archer Lynx, maintaining formation behind him. Each of them were piloting the Switch-Wing, a multipurpose, good all around fighter craft that had been in use in and around Lylat for close for a decade. The Switch-Wing resembled a delta symbol, with two long, thin wings stretching in a V behind the fuselage, and two Inertial-diffusers, referred to as I-diffusers, nestled between the wings and the main body. The craft's versatility, along with its engines being rated for interplanetary flight, and the relatively few maintenance headaches compared to most other fighters of its type, had made it James' ideal choice for team Star Fox's signature fighter.

Breaking through the cloud layer above Corneria City the three fighter craft angled in for their assigned landing strip. The majesty of Corneria City spread out beneath them. Home to more than ten million people, Corneria City was nestled along the northeastern coast of the planet's largest continent, Geas. Stretching for miles beyond the main city were the seemingly endless tracts of suburbs, all arrayed in an almost obsessive compulsive design of neat grids that formed a semicircle around the central city.

Off the coast a group of three small islands dotted the clear, sparkling ocean water. Tall silver towers sprang from one of them, projecting like the spokes of a crown around the long, transparent arch of the Cornerian Mall. The other two had been left to nature, one having become a city park, with paths and small, manicured clearings visible, while the other had been left wild and designated as a nature preserve.

Looking down at it all from the sky, James couldn't help but voice his wonder. "It never gets old."

"What doesn't?" came the gruff baritone of Archer Lynx.

"The city," James replied. "The average skyscraper down there? Twice as high as the tallest building on Papetoon. And don't even get me started on the variety of stuff you can find when you go shopping. Hell, the Cornerian Mall's got more stuff in it than half of Dejima's stores combined."

"Corneria's a lot richer than Papetoon," Peppy pointed out. "So it makes sense. Lot more industry and trade, too."

"Yeah," James agreed. "But it still blows my..."

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. There was a roaring noise of engines, and all of sudden he felt his Switch-Wing shake from the turbulence caused by a passing fighter craft. The craft, somewhat similar in design to the Switch-Wings, but with wings positioned in an almost straight, perpendicular line from the back of the fuselage, flew past them, probably sparing only a few meters of distance. As the craft shot back up into the cloud layer it did a jaunty little aileron loop, and James could swear he saw the pilot giving them a sarcastic half salute. "Asshole," James muttered. "What the hell was that?"

"No idea," said Peppy, sounding more miffed than angry. "Must be a fine pilot to be able to pull off a buzz like that though."

"Or one with a death wish," Archer said. "I recognize the fighter though."

"What is it?" James asked. "Prep for final approach."

"Prepping," came the response from both his teammates. Archer continued, "Looks like an Arwing. Experimental space superiority fighter from Space Dynamics. G-diffuser system is supposed to give it the best maneuverability of any fighter craft, past or present."

"You mean an I-diffuser, right?" Peppy said.

"No. According to Space Dynamics the G-diffuser is the next step in that category of technology. Gonna make the I-diffuser obsolete in five, ten years," Archer explained, clearly in his element when talking about fighter technology. It was because of that intimate knowledge that James trusted him with the maintenance of the team's Switch-Wings. Few people could match Archer's instincts or knowledge about them and most other spacecraft.

"All very interesting," James said. "I still think whoever is piloting this "Arwing" is an asshole."

Both Peppy and Archer chuckled as they brought their fighters in for a landing. Reducing speed as they approached the airstrip the three of them maintained perfect formation while transforming from aircraft to walker, hitting the ground running, then slowing as they approached the hangar at a walk. The doors opened and the three pilots trotted in. James keyed in the deactivation sequence, and the fighter lowered itself to the ground, curling up so that he could hop to the ground without fear of injury. Giving the ship a pat on the nose James looked to his two teammates and said, "I guess we better check in with the colonel."

Peppy and Archer nodded, and the three of them left the landing field. As soon as they had stepped out of the hangar James felt his communicator start buzzing. Prizing it out of his pocket he took a quick look through his messages, sighing as he saw that not one of them was work related. "Typical."

"Lemme guess," said Archer, "No job offers, but plenty of vixens asking if you're back yet?"

"Shut up." James threw his friend a cocky grin, ignoring Peppy's disapproving head shake. The hare, despite the stereotypes surrounding his species, was painfully monogamous when it came to female company. He'd been dating his girlfriend Vivian for two years now, and he hadn't so much as looked at another woman since. To James this was incomprehensible, while to Peppy it made perfect sense.

Exiting the landing field they hitched a ride on the overground train into Corneria City. James held onto one of the hand railings, his mind wandering back to the pilot who had buzzed them on their way in. That sort of behavior was pretty typical on planets like his home world, Papetoon. Back on Papetoon or Fichina, where government was small and respect for the law stopped at the local Federation Marshal, buzzing a few single person ships as they came in was really nothing more than an enthusiastic hello. But on Corneria? James was hard pressed to think of any Cornerian behaving that recklessly. He pushed those thoughts aside. For now he needed to focus on giving a report to the colonel, and then collecting the payment they'd need to tide them over until the next job swung around.

After a few minutes the train entered the city and the team disembarked to catch the underground train to the Lylat Federation Defense Force Headquarters. The humid warmth of a Corneria City summer hit them full force, made worse by the tighter quarters of the city. Not only did they have to contend with the heat from the blue orb of Lylat hanging fat in the sky, they also had to contend with the heat from the millions of people crowding the streets. Not only that, but the tall buildings of Corneria City's skyscrapers blocked much of the ocean breeze, giving the the air a still, muggy feeling.

 _At least back home on Papetoon it's a dry heat,_ James thought to himself. The three men made their way through the crowd and down the stairs to street level. It was a bit less crowded down there, and James felt a blissful nasal relief as his sensitive canid nose detected less body scent and more plant life. The streets themselves were lined with tall trees, small gardens, and colorful flower patches.

The entrance to the underground train system was only a short walk away, and they made it there quickly. The train station, with white tiled walls covered in flashy advertisements and the occasional self updating newsboard, were free of the graffiti typical of similar stations on other worlds. James had never quite figured out if that was because the Cornerians were very fastidious about removing it as soon as it appeared, or if people in the city genuinely weren't interested in graffiti. _Probably a bit of both._

The subway was as crowded as ever, so James allowed Archer to take the lead. Not only was the lynx a native of Corneria City, but he was also far burlier than either James or Peppy, and seemed able to clear a path without the slightest effort. The three of them swiped their cards at the security gate, and then quickly made their way to the train itself.

Corneria City's subway system was centuries old, and had been through more renovations and reinventions than many historians could count. A soft, feminine computerized voice announced the arrival of another train, and once again Archer cleared the three of them a spot with little issue. The doors shut and the train kicked into motion, though without the windows one would never have known. Cornerian subways had full inertial dampening. Yet another thing that boggled James's mind. It didn't bother him so much as strike him as unnecessary. It was unnecessary, even if it did make the ride a bit more comfortable. Still, sometimes James found himself missing the more rickety, twisty turny feeling of Dejima's metro rails on Papetoon.

Next to him Peppy let out a harumph as he stared out the windows as the tunnel flashed by. "What is it Pep?" James asked.

"Just thinking," Peppy replied. "Thinking about how you can travel from one end of Corneria City to another, and barely see darn a thing."

The train car came to a stop and the doors opened, the three of them piling out with the rest of the passengers. Once they'd cleared the area, James said, "Peppy? Remind me to teach you some swear words. Because 'darn' is just not befitting of a mercenary."

"You'll never corrupt me with you decadent, immoral ways James," Peppy replied, a teasing glint in his eye.

"I don't know, just gimme a few more years," James said, tail wagging. Peppy had always been his superego, and despite sticking with James through all his antics, from childhood pranks to teenaged stunts, as well as his near constant forays into the mature art forms of interpersonal relations, he remained maddeningly incorruptible.

"Never happen," Peppy replied, rubbing at his mustache as they climbed the stairs back out into the blistering Cornerian afternoon. A soft ocean breeze reached them here though, courtesy of the beachfront property that the Federation Defense Force Headquarters was built on.

"Wanna bet?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't believe in gambling," Peppy replied.

James groaned. "You do too. I've seen you playing poker."

Peppy just shrugged enigmatically, his expression unreadable.

"Give it up James, it's not worth the ulcer," Archer advised him, a tiny smirk curling his short feline muzzle.

"But then he wins," James said, shaking his head.

Peppy just chuckled. "I always win. You shoulda learned that by now."

It was a short walk to the Defense Force HQ. Occupying about two kilometers along the beach, the entire complex was built around a single, massive tower. Roughly cylindrical in shape, the tower would have been the subject of numerous rude jokes were it not for the large, upside down cone that rested on the summit like a mushroom cap. Resting on that cap were numerous antenna, all of them connecting to satellites and communications arrays throughout the Lylat System and beyond.

Arriving at the security gate they each produced their passes, were waved through, and then hopped onto one of the robot driven jeeps. "Central tower," James told it. The robot nodded and the jeep kicked into motion.

As the jeep transported them to the tower, James took the opportunity to look around the base. Despite being a military installation, there was still considerable thought given to aesthetics and comfort. Small green areas were dotted throughout, with fountains and benches, as well as awnings placed on the buildings to provide shade to troopers as they stood watch. And, true to Cornerian custom, each barracks they passed was surrounded by a small garden, maintained by the personnel quartered there. It certainly provided a stark contrast to the brutal, efficiency minded outposts produced by the Eladardians, or the underwater bases built by the Anglars on Venom.

The jeep stopped in front of the central tower, and the Star Fox team piled out. Fluttering in the breeze, the flag of the Lylat Federation stood tall alongside the planetary flags of each of its members. Special care had been taken to ensure that no flag stood in a higher or more visible position than its counterparts, this having stemmed from a desire to emphasize that all worlds were equal in the Federation's sheltering embrace. Still, whenever James looked at them, he always found his eye inexorably drawn to the simple blue background and olive branches of the Federation. Whether this was because of a subtlety in the layout of the flags or simply a matter of his personal feelings he had yet to discover.

They ascended the steps to the main doorway, then entered the cool, airconditioned interior. The lobby of the Lylat Defense Tower was, at first glance, given over more to form than function. The marble floors gleamed with polish, small gardens paralleled the intended walkways, and security cameras and devices were kept inconspicuous and, where that wasn't possible, integrated into the surrounding decoration. The apparent softness had never fooled James. Upon his first visit he had seen that, despite the window dressing, everything was positioned to make the interior as defensible as possible. While the Federation and its military believed in putting people at ease, the better to keep the peace, they were more than capable of bringing down the hammer when they wanted to. _There's a reason no one has challenged the Federation in over seventy years,_ James reminded himself.

Approaching the main desk the male vulpine put on his best smile for the receptionist. A brunette poodle with brown fur, she wore a patch that identified her as part of the civilian branch of the Administrative Corps. Seeing James approach she looked up at him with a lively smile and a little wag of her tail. "Captain McCloud, how good to see you again."

"Hi Jamie," James said, leaning on the desk with his elbows. "Busy?"

"Never too busy for you," she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Good to know," James replied, giving her a wink.

"Oh brother," Peppy muttered.

"I assume you're here to see the colonel?" Jamie asked.

"Yep," James nodded. "Just a quick debrief. We should be scheduled."

"Let me check," Jamie said, tapping away at her computer. "Mmhmm, got you right here. I'll let his aide know you've arrived. So, you free tonight?"

"Why how forward," James said, smirking. "But yes, I am. Why?"

"You know why," Jamie replied, waggling her eyebrows at him.

James grinned and said, "Your place, around nine?"

"Make it eight-thirty and it's a deal. I'm working in the morning," Jamie responded, tail wagging at gale force.

"You got it. See ya then," James said, his own tail wagging as he walked off, Peppy and Archer following behind him.

"I'm not even going to bother reminding you how unprofessional that is," Peppy groused.

Calling a lift, James said, "Last time I checked the Defense Force doesn't have any regulations about romance between civilians."

"We're not civilians James," Peppy replied. "We're independent defense contractors. And besides, that's not what I call romance."

"So it's a casual hookup. And you're right, we're mercs not civilians." James nodded, stepping onto the lift. "But, according to our independant contract, we are not bound by the same sorts of rules and regulations we would be if we were actual military. Besides, she's a civilian too, she just happens to work for the Defense Force, so what's the harm?"

Peppy just shook his head. "Like I said, I've given up arguing with you."

Glancing at Archer, James said, "Back me up here."

"Oh no." Archer waved a hand in front of his chest. "You're on your own with Peppy."

"Coward," James responded, though he wagged his tail to let his friend know he didn't mean it. Hitting the button for the twenty-third floor, James held the door open for a pair of female enlisted personnel, both of them loaded down with files, then asked and hit the button for the floor the two women needed. The lift began its ascent, and James tried his best to resist the temptation to flirt with the two of them. _Okay, so maybe he has a point that I can go a little overboard. But Jamie and I are friends, so who cares? Not like I haven't gotten all the immunizations. Oi, whatever._

The doors opened at the seventeenth floor and the two enlisteds got out. A few moments later the three of them arrived at their floor, stepping into the colonel's outer office. His aide, a bulldog, let them through immediately, and James and his companions stepped into a rather plush workspace. Though not overwhelmingly large, the office was comfortably spacious, with a desk, a few chairs and a coffee table for a sitting area, and a window looking out on the Corneria City bay. Sitting behind the desk, dressed in the red and gold Cornerian Army Air Corps uniform, sat Colonel Cornelius Pepper, a tough as nails hound dog who, despite being a distinguished participant in numerous Federation peacekeeping missions, looked quite comfortable commanding from behind his desk. It was a mode of thinking that James would never understand. In his mind he always had to be on the frontline, taking the fight to the enemy, not simply ordering people into battle and watching events unfold on a holoscreen. Even so James felt a healthy degree of respect for Pepper, helped in no small part by the fact that the colonel was the one signing their paychecks. "Colonel," James said, managing an almost perfect salute.

Standing up, Pepper returned the salute, motioning them all to the chairs in front of his desk. James sat down in one, briefly considering whether to put his feet up on the desk before deciding against it.

Settling himself back down, Pepper said, "So, I assume all was quiet?"

"Yes sir," James replied. "Not so much as a micro-meteoroid."

Pepper nodded. "Good. The convoy commander said much the same. I'll expect the standard forms in my inbox, but I'll go ahead and transfer the fee tonight."

"Thanks colonel," James said. "I'm sure we'll be living off it for a few months between jobs."

"Actually," Pepper said, the hint of a smile curling his jowls, "I may have something for you."

James leaned forward, interested, as did Peppy and Archer. "Yes sir?"

"You've heard of the Arwing project over at Space Dynamics?"

"Yeah, we got buzzed by one of those things today." James frowned, once again wondering who had been behind the flightstick for that one.

"I'm not surprised. There's a rather...eclectic mix of test pilots for the prototype. Some of them are a bit cockier than they maybe should be, and that's where you come in," Pepper explained.

"How so, sir?"

"If you're interested, I'd like to get you set up in simulator runs at Space Dynamics," Pepper told them. "I know you haven't seen a huge amount of action, but I've seen the kind of flying you can pull off in those Switch-Wings. I'd like to put you three, in Switch-Wings, up against a single simulated Arwing."

"That sounds like a slaughter, sir," James said, intrigued.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Interested?"

"How much are we talking?"

"Highest fee I can give you, if you take the job," Pepper said, grinning when he saw the astonished looks on their faces. "The project budget is a bit padded, but we don't want it cut. You know how it is."

"Sure," James answered, not interested in looking a gift zontar in the mouth. "You got a file for us?"

Pepper nodded, handing each of them a memory card. James took his and slotted it into his phone, the device downloading the stored information. Memory cards might have been a bit archaic, but they were considered more secure than transferring sensitive information via a datastream. James scrolled through the information, memorizing locations and times as he went. After about a minute he looked up and said, "We'll do it."

"Excellent," Pepper said, clearly pleased. "I'll be there for observation, don't be late."

Seeing that the meeting was over, James stood, gave another almost passable salute, then left the office with his team. When the door shut behind them James pumped his fist. "Yes! We are so rich!"

Peppy and Archer were both grinning, eagerly anticipating an easy payday. "We should celebrate," Archer said.

James nodded. "We should. Everybody go home and get changed, we'll hit a restaurant for dinner, then I have a date."

"That's not a date," Peppy said, though he smiled.

"Fine," James said. "I have a booty call, would you rather I say that?"

"Ehhh." Peppy shrugged, then clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I can't stay mad at you."

"I'm too loveable," James replied, grinning even wider at his friend. "Now come on, let's go."

* * *

Sitting in his office at the top of Space Dynamics HQ, Argus Phoenix remarked once again on just how far he had come in a few short years. When he had started Space Dynamics he had never intended to build it into the emerging megacorp it was. Well, that wasn't _entirely_ true. He'd thought about it, considered the potential, and weighed the risks. Argus never did anything out of simple instinct. The idea of a "business instinct" was, in his opinion, the most ridiculous concept he could imagine. No, he had studied the data, the market, and then decided that maybe, with a few good moves, he might be able to make it in. Make it in as a niche supplier of high end space craft that is. But, as he'd made one move after another, one decision after the next, the sum of those actions had built up at an alarming rate. His designs were continually heralded as innovative and inventive, special and unique, and, consequently, they were now in high demand. And so now, instead of making ends meet with a small business, designing pleasure yachts and the occasional custom fighter craft, Argus was sitting at the top of a skyscraper, looking out at a gorgeous Cornerian afternoon, with visions of the most impossible, improbable, and beautiful designs spinning in his head.

The intercom on his desk buzzed, and Argus swiveled in his functional, comfortable, low backed chair to tap the answer button. "Yes?"

"Mr. Niles is here to see you, sir," his secretary's voice filtered through the speaker.

"Send him in," Argus replied. Running a hand through his short, sandy hair, Argus glanced around his office, making sure everything looked right. The furniture was all metal frames and leather seats, very modern, very functional, and very professional. His own desk was made of fogged glass, and across from him the wall was adorned with a holographic projection of a desert landscape. Corneria City's warmth in this season agreed with him more than its winter, but Argus, a fennec, never felt quite right about non-desert climates. The air was always either too cold, or too humid.

The door to his office opened and Niles, the manager in charge of the Arwing's group of rowdy test pilots, walked in. Niles was an avian, a second generation immigrant from Zoness, and a capable, if unimaginative bureaucrat. He was just the sort of man who could drive a group of egotistical, generally unmanageable pilots to succeed. In him they saw authority and a lack of understanding, and so they were driven to rebel, which led to them doing the kinds of unconventional things that Argus enjoyed seeing. _Confront them with the utterly conventional, and they'll proceed to do everything they can to be unconventional._

Standing up from behind his desk, Argus held out his hand to Niles. The avian shook it, his feathers causing a slight tickle against Argus's palm, which the fennec ignored. "Niles, good to see you. I take it things are going well?"

"Yes sir," Niles replied. Argus motioned for him to take a seat. "I have my recommendation for the combat simulator pilot."

"Good." Argus didn't mention that he'd already made his decision. He also didn't mention that he had a fair idea who Niles would be recommending. Sitting back down behind his desk, he folded his hands on top of his stomach. "Who did you have in mind?"

Opening his briefcase Niles extracted a tablet computer. Swiping the lock screen he tapped through a few screens, then sent the files he needed directly to Argus' computer. Argus pressed a small button on his glasses, and the information began scrolling across the lenses. "I suggest that we give the new position to miss Natasha Berezovsky."

 _Bingo,_ Argus thought to himself, keeping his expression neutral. "Oh?"

Niles nodded, handing the file over to Argus, who thumbed it open and made a show of carefully considering it. "She has high marks, the highest in flight safety, and, of course, my personal recommendation."

 _Of course she does. Hell, if she'd done what she did for him to me, I'm not sure I'd have been able to say no, either._ Argus kept that to himself though. _I can't fire him since he's friends with one of my biggest investors, but I'll be damned if I don't take him down a couple of pegs despite it._ "Well, she seems good, but I don't think she's the right fit."

"Sir?" Niles looked puzzled, if not upset.

"I'm afraid I've decided on someone else," Argus continued. "I wanted a more...unconventional choice."

The avian grimaced at that word. Argus suppressed a smile. _Oh how I know you hate that word._ "May I ask who, sir?"

"Vixy Reinard." Argus had to hold back a tail wag at the shocked, uncomprehending expression that covered Niles' face. "I like her style," Argus went on. "Very ballsy. Any objections?"

"More than I can count sir," Niles responded. "However, I'm sure you already know all of them. Should I tell her?"

"No." Argus shook his head. "I'd like to meet with her first. I'll use your office. She is scheduled to be returning to the hangar soon, correct?" Niles nodded in confirmation. "Perfect. In the meantime why don't you break the bad news to miss Berezovsky?"

"Yes sir," Niles replied. "Anything else?"

"Nope." Argus leaned back in his seat a bit.

"Well then, I suppose I'll be going," Niles said, gathering up his file and clicking shut his briefcase.

He looked once more to Argus for permission, got a small nod, then headed for the door. Just as the avian opened the door, Argus smiled, wagged his tail, and said, "Oh and Niles? Cover the security cameras next time."

Niles's plumage raised in alarm, and he blanched in embarrassment. "Yes sir." Then the bird stepped out, shutting the door behind him a little quicker than perhaps etiquette allowed.

Argus knew from that reaction that he might end up paying for that one, but damn if it didn't feel good. Chuckling, Argus opened his files and grabbed up the one marked "Vixy Reinard" and said to himself, "Worth it." Then he settled in to do a little bit of prep work.

* * *

The Arwing came to a stop in the Space Dynamics hangar, its engine cycling down. The cockpit opened and a vixen of medium height and slender build hopped out, pulling her headset off and tossing it to the waiting tech. "Damn, that is one fast machine," she said, shaking out her shoulder length blond hair.

"Boss wants to see you," the tech called after her.

"Where is he?" she asked over her shoulder, hiding her dismay.

The tech pointed towards the office above the hangar bay. "Said right away, too."

Nodding, the vixen took the metal staircase leading up to the office. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. Being a test pilot for the Arwing program meant that her flights were monitored at all times, and there was no doubt in her mind that, once again, she would be getting a dressing down for reckless piloting. To a certain degree she could understand it. There was only one functional Arwing prototype in existence. That meant that the people in charge of the program were a naturally cautious bunch, and buzzing those Switch-Wings earlier was far from the first incident of unorthodox behavior on her record.

Reaching the top of the stairs she knocked on the door. "Come in," said a voice, filtered through the entryway.

She gave the doorknob a twist and walked in. The office was small, with a single desk, a couple of chairs, and a computer terminal. A floor to ceiling window looked out on the hangar below it. "Look Niles, we've been through this enough times that I think we should just skip...it..." Vixy turned around, having closed the door behind her, and found herself confronted not by her Space Dynamic's manager, Niles, but by a short, thin, orange furred fennec in slacks, a sweater vest with dress shirt, and a tie. His glasses were glowing with a scrolling datafeed. Not sure what to make of this, the vixen said, "You're not Niles."

The fennec killed the datafeed and looked up at her. "Vixy Reinard?"

Nodding, the vixen said, "That's me."

"Good." The fennec motioned to the chair in front of the desk. "Please, sit down."

Vixy did so, relaxing into it as best she could. "I assume this is about my buzzing those Switch-Wings earlier today."

"In part," the fennec replied. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Argus Phoenix."

"Hi." Vixy sat a little straighter, but otherwise masked her surprise. "The Arwing is a nice ship."

Argus smiled. "Thank you. I designed her myself."

"I know." Vixy maintained her outward calm even as her mind began racing. What was the head of Space Dynamics, and the lead designer of the Arwing, doing in her manager's office, talking in cryptic sentences to her? "Should I be worried?"

"That depends," Argus replied, folding his hands in his lap.

Vixy grunted, not interested in playing this game. "Sir, no disrespect, but can we get on with it? I'd kinda like to take a shower and get something to eat."

That brought a smile to Argus's face. Chuckling he said, "Well that's refreshing."

"What is?" Vixy asked, confused.

"It's just that most people aren't that direct with me unless I tell them to be." Argus shrugged. "When you're head of one of the most valuable corporations in the galaxy, people tend to be afraid of offending you."

"I was born on Papetoon. I had more important things to worry about than courtesy," Vixy answered, though she smiled back at him.

"Farmer?"

"Dad owned a flower shop in Dejima," Vixy replied, still not sure where this was leading. "Mom worked at the local hospital."

"Hmmm." Argus looked considerate. "Why did you leave?"

"It was Papetoon," Vixy answered, bluntly. "Everyone wants to leave."

"Everyone?" Argus looked surprised.

"Everyone who wants to do something interesting with their life, at least," Vixy amended. "I wanted to do something interesting with my life."

"I see. Your parents weren't very interesting?"

"Is there a point to all this?" Vixy countered, feeling herself getting testy. She didn't care that this guy was so far above her pay grade she needed a telescope just to see his office. She was tired, hungry, and in need of a shower. No, a bath. That would be heavenly.

"Yes and no."

 _F my life._ "What do you mean?"

"I mean," said Argus, demonstrating remarkable patience, "That I like to get to know the people I employ."

"Must be hard, considering Space Dynamics employs nearly a hundred thousand people on Corneria alone," Vixy pointed out.

"True." Argus leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. "I'll get to the point."

 _Finally._ "Thank you."

Chuckling again, Argus said, "You buzzed a trio of Switch-Wings today during your test flight. Correct?"

"Yes." Vixy smiled, relieved they'd finally gotten to the dressing down so she could get out of this office and her flight suit, and into something more comfortable.

"I like that."

It took Vixy a moment to comprehend that sentence. "Excuse me?"

Tail wagging softly behind the desk, Argus said, "I know your manager, Niles, has been riding your tail about unsafe behavior, but, frankly, the Arwing is a combat fighter. I very much doubt the people who will be flying the production model are going to be flying any safer than you are."

"That's what I told him," Vixy said, feeling encouraged. Finally, someone who understood that a craft like the Arwing wasn't meant to be flown like an airliner.

With a shrug, Argus said, "You'll have to forgive him, middle management tends to be a bit rule obsessed. That being said, I have a proposition for you."

"What is it?" Vixy asked, her curiosity piqued.

"How would you like to be the first pilot to take the Arwing through combat trials?"

Vixy's eyes widened. Combat trials? Oh this sounded good. She'd always wanted to be a fighter pilot, and to a certain degree she was, since she was test piloting a starfighter. But actual combat? She'd never really entertained the thought as a serious possibility. The only real way to do it would be to go to the Defense Force Academy, join the Army Air Corps, and spend her life bogged down by more rules and regulations than she could stomach. "Seriously?"

Argus nodded. "I considered all the other pilots in the program, and all of them are qualified, but you have something they don't."

"What?"

Argus smiled. "Balls."


	2. Baths, Sex, and Simulators

**Chapter Two**

 _ **Baths, Sex, and Simulators**_

With a sigh of relief Vixy closed the door to her apartment. Dropping her purse on the floor she took stock of the room. It was a complete and utter mess. An empty pizza box sat at an angle on her coffee table, several socks had managed to land themselves on top of the couch, and a bra still lay on the floor from last weekend's fling. _Did I get his number? Huh. Whatever._

Deciding that the mess could wait Vixy headed for her bedroom, stripping off her clothes as she went. It was time for that hot bath she'd been promising herself. The bedroom wasn't in much better shape than the living room. The bed was unmade, she'd left her holovision on, though not to anything interesting so she turned it off, and several used coffee mugs had piled up alongside her bed. Tossing her clothes in the general direction of the overflowing hamper, Vixy stepped into her bathroom and flipped on the lights.

The bathroom, contrary to the rest of the apartment, was perfectly clean. Vixy could tolerate, and in fact preferred, a messy living space, but she could not abide a dirty bathroom. The counters were scrubbed, the cosmetics and toiletries were all neatly arranged, and the floor sparkled. Several gingerbread scented candles were scattered about, and Vixy went ahead and lit them with the matches she kept in the medicine cabinet. Starting the water running she waited until it was almost steaming hot, then let it begin filling the tub. Satisfied that it would take a few minutes, she dumped some lavender scented soap in the water, then headed for the kitchen.

Presenting the perfect contrast to the bathroom, Vixy's modest kitchen was the messiest part of the apartment. Dishes were piled up, cereal from a morning breakfast spill still covered the counter, and the fridge was covered over with magnets and posters advertising everything from vacation spots to cookware she wouldn't know how to use if her life depended on it. _Hmmm. I should learn how to cook at some point._ "I can make pancakes though. The best pancakes," she reminded herself.

Opening the fridge she prized a bottle of red wine from inside of it. She grabbed the last of the clean wine glasses from the cabinet, then poured a healthy amount from the bottle. Replacing the bottle she took the glass in hand and went back to her bath. The lavender scent of the soap was already beginning to spill out into the bedroom when she returned. The water had filled to just the right level, and the bubbles were almost overflowing. She turned off the water and dipped a toe in to check the temperature. Hot, but not quite boiling. Perfect. She stepped in. "Ahhhh...oh man, oh that's good." Vixy settled herself in the tub, closed her eyes, and let the warm water and fragrant bubbles soak through her fur, teasing the sensitive skin beneath.

Sinking a bit further into the water, Vixy hummed contentedly to herself, reaching next to her to pick up the wine glass. She sipped from it, savored it for a moment, then swallowed. Steam curled up from the bath, fogging the mirror and casting the room in a soft, hazy light. A few minutes passed, during which the wine in her glass slowly disappeared, and the tension in her muscles eased until she felt them go almost completely slack. With a happy sigh she let one of her hands drift between her slender thighs. "Mmmm...why not?" she whispered absently to herself.

Just then a loud, sudden noise shattered Vixy's increasingly intimate relaxation. "Dammit!" Eyes going wide she swiveled her ears in the direction of the noise. It was her phone, of that there was no question, but if she could tell which ringtone it was she might be able to avoid getting out of her bath. It didn't take long, and once she'd identified it she let out a frustrated grunt and stepped out of the tub. "I'm gonna kill her."

Wrapping a towel around herself Vixy moved as quickly as she could across her bedroom, dripping water all across the rug. Reaching the phone on her dresser she stabbed the answer button and said, "Meryl, I swear you have the worst timing."

"What? I heard you got a promotion," came the sweet, seductive voice of Vixy's best friend, Meryl Lyn Monroe.

"How? How could you possibly know that?" Vixy asked, picking up the phone and taking it back to the bathroom. She settled herself in the water, confident the phone's waterproof case would prevent any damage from the steam filled environment. "I haven't told anyone. Or posted it on Muzzletome or Meverse. How did you find out?"

"I have my ways."

"Right." Vixy shook her head. "So, you're just going to be mysterious, aren't you?"

"We Cerinians have to keep up the mystique somehow," Meryl replied. "Even half-Cerinians."

"Hmmm." Vixy closed her eyes. "You know, you could say the same thing about felines in general. You're a pretty mysterious lot."

"And we intend to keep it that way," Meryl replied. "At least until it no longer suits us. So, what are you doing?"

"Taking a bath," Vixy answered. "And I was about to relax when you called."

Meryl was silent for a moment, then said, "You were gonna rub one out, weren't you?"

Laughing, Vixy said, "Probably more than one."

Meryl joined in the laughter. "Well, don't let me get between you and those magical fingers. I assume that means going out and getting drunk to celebrate that promotion is off the table?"

Vixy thought about it for a moment, then said, "Yeah. I think I want a night in tonight. Forgive me?"

"Pfft. It's fine. More for me," Meryl replied. "Have fun."

"You too," Vixy replied. The call ended, and for a moment Vixy just lay there in the tub, quietly enjoying the warmth. Then, with a smile and a giggle, she set about relaxing in earnest.

* * *

A loud, terrible, utterly horrendous beeping noise woke James McCloud from a deep, pleasant sleep. Ears folding back against his skull, he put his head under his pillow and tried to ignore the sound. Next to him on the bed, Jamie and her roommate Clara stirred, the poodle and lioness both groaning as they returned to consciousness.

"Make it stop," James grumbled from beneath the pillow.

A moment later the noise stopped, and he felt someone poking him in the side. "Come on McCloud, wake your lazy ass up."

Rolling over, and being quite unabashed about his current nakedness, James tossed the pillow aside and stared up at Jamie. "I had fun last night."

"So did I," Jamie said. "What about you Clara?"

Smirking, the lioness said, "He's good. Not as good as this panther I once met, but certainly not bad."

Shaking his head, James said, "You wound me."

Giggling, Jamie snuggled up next to him and said, "Don't worry, you're still the best I've had so far."

"So far?" James kissed her hair. "Ah, the times we live in."

Tail wagging Jamie was about to say something when Clara interrupted, "Jamie..."

"What?" the poodle asked, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her eyeline while simultaneously fending off James' roving hands. The male vulpine made a silly pouty face as he relented.

"It's seven o'clock."

Jamie's eyes went wide. "Oh shit." She sprang out of bed, tripped, landed on the floor, then bounced right back up, hopping on one foot as she started pulling on clothes. "How many alarms did we sleep through?"

Taking a moment to think, Clara said, "Three. Maybe four?"

Confused, James looked at the poodle. "Is something happening that I don't know about?"

"I have to be at work in half an hour," Jamie replied, throwing on her uniform shirt. "Fuck, I can't even shower. I'm gonna smell like you all day."

"Sorry," James replied, grinning devilishly. "Tell 'em it's a new perfume, Musk of a McCloud or something."

"Uh huh." Jamie shook her head, running to the bathroom to at least brush her teeth. She reemerged about a minute later, just as James was sitting up in bed. Kissing him on the nose she said, "It really was great, but I gotta go." Looking at her roommate, she said, "He's all yours, I know you're off today."

Clara shrugged, "Ehhh." James stuck his tongue out at her. "Oh don't give me that mopey canid face."

James poured on the mopiness. Slowly but surely Clara broke down, settling down on the bed with him again, tail whipping behind her. Kissing her ears, James said, "I'd love the chance to prove you wrong, you know."

"About what?" Clara asked, her eyes full of feline fire.

"That panther," James said, his arousal growing.

Glancing down between his legs, Clara just shook her head and said, "Do your worst."

James was about to do just that when Jamie tapped him on the shoulder. "Phone."

"What?" James looked behind him, taking the phone from Jamie's hand. Holding it to his muzzle, he said, "Hello?"

 _"James, it's Peppy, where are you?"_ Came his friend's voice, the twang in it extra strong today.

"Um...busy?" James replied, trying not to growl as Clara pressed herself against him. His free hand drifted down to cup her round, supple rear.

There was a long, protracted sigh from the other end of the line. _"I know for a fact that Jamie has work this morning, how busy could you be?"_

"Roommate levels of busy," James replied, squeezing Clara's left buttock as the feline wrapped a hand around his member, stroking it with lustful intent. Clara winked at her roommate who, in response, waggled her eyebrows at the lioness.

 _"Okay,"_ Peppy said, his tone informing James that his current situation was, in the hare's mind, anything _but_ okay. _"I'm not even going to begin to unpack the levels of ick I'm feeling right now. You do remember that we're supposed to be at Space Dynamics this morning though, right?"_

Clara shifted on the bed, putting her head between James' legs, which he spread invitingly. Her nose bumped into his length, and she planted a kiss at the head, making James suck in a breath. Then his brain rallied, processing Peppy's words before pleasure could override them. _Oh goddammit._ Pushing Clara away gently, he swung his legs over the bed and started reaching for his shoes. "When do I need to be there? Tell me I'm not late."

There was a moment's hesitation. _"We don't have to be there for a couple of hours yet..."_

"Peppy...are you saying that I have two hours to get somewhere that will take, at most, fifteen minutes travel time?" James was grinning even as he made his voice as grim and serious as possible. Pressing up against his back, her breath hot on his neck, Clara started pulling him back to the bed.

" _Yes,"_ the hare said, resignedly.

"See you there," James said, hanging up. Turning to Clara, he asked, "So, how do you want to do this?"

Pushing him onto his back, Clara straddled him and replied, "You just lay back flyboy, and let me do the flying."

"You know how to work the stick?" James tried, and failed, to keep a straight face at his own terrible joke.

Snorting, Clara took his hardened member in her hand, then guided it inside her with expert proficiency. Sighing in happiness, she rested her hands on his shoulders and said, "I think so."

"Well, you seem to at least know docking maneuvers." James smirked, reaching up to palm her breasts.

Growling down at him, Clara's tail whipped in agitation. "We are not going to keep using pilot's metaphors this whole time, are we?"

Shrugging, and giving her nipples a tender, but forceful squeeze, James said, "You're the pilot, so it's up to you."

Rolling her eyes, Clara also started to roll her hips. "Shut up McCloud, or I'll stuff my panties in your mouth."

Smirk widening, eyes bright, tail wagging in vulpine mischief, James said, "How do you know I wouldn't like that?"

The rumbling purr that had been building in Clara's chest turned into a threatening growl, and she bit out through grit teeth, "One more word, and you won't have a prick, got it?" To illustrate her point, she clenched around him, hard enough that she got a pained grimace from him. "Got it?"

"Got it," James replied. "I surrender."

After that, James wisely kept his muzzle shut, even as the sex became more and more involved. Clara seemed serious about doing all the work, keeping him pinned on his back the entire time. James didn't mind, he had no problem watching her work up a delicious sweat. Or watching as those ample breasts bounced with each crashing of her hips against his. It was, in all honesty, a mesmerizing and beautiful sight. _Peppy is going to bitch at me all day for this._ Then Clara leaned over him, her slight height advantage allowing her to press her chest against his face. Grinning stupidly from beneath her cleavage, James thought, _Worth it,_ then stopped thinking altogether, letting himself sink fully into the oldest dance in evolution.

* * *

Steam curled upwards from the coffee mug as it sat on the table. For a moment, Vixy was reminded of her bath the night before. Smiling, she took the mug in her hands and sipped at the life giving substance. Across from her in the diner booth sat Meryl, the pink furred feline staring out the window, entranced by the passersby. Her tail flicked back and forth on the booth's leather cushion, and a soft, contented purr vibrated in her chest. Both women had always been fond of people watching. They enjoyed observing all the little things that people did as they walked without even realizing it. The muttered reminders, the absent tail wags, the ears folded down as they walked by a construction site were, to Vixy and Meryl, endlessly fascinating. Even so, today Vixy didn't feel quite as interested in the people walking by as she usually did. Instead she found herself thinking about the fact that today would be her first day in the combat simulator. A chance to prove herself, and prove that her knack for reckless flying could actually be a strength, not a weakness.

Turning away from the window, Meryl looked at her friend. "You're nervous."

Setting the mug back down on the plastic covered table, Vixy nodded. "Did your powers tell you that?"

"No." Meryl shook her head. "It's just that obvious."

"Gee, thanks," Vixy said, smiling at the waiter as he brought them their breakfast. He set down a tower of waffles for Meryl, and eggs and toast for Vixy. She wanted to eat light this morning. "Thanks." The waiter, a cute looking husky, smiled as he walked off.

"Sleep well last night?" Meryl asked, forking a hefty amount of waffle into her muzzle.

"Sure. Why?" Vixy took a bite of her toast. "Ugh. Butter. I told them dry," Vixy complained, though she kept on eating it anyway. For once in her life she didn't feel like making an issue out of it.

"They always get it wrong," Meryl said, shrugging. "I never understood why you liked dry toast anyway."

"It's not that I don't like buttered toast," Vixy said, suddenly feeling like she was in an episode of a holovision show about nothing, "It's that I don't like it on days when I've got a hundred billion butterflies in my stomach."

Watching Vixy scarf down the next piece, Meryl thought to ask, "Then why are you still eating it?"

"Because I'm hungry, and it's not that big a deal," Vixy answered, taking a brief second to watch as a group of well built male foxes strolled by the window. All other thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as she allowed herself to engage in some eye-pleasing window shopping. "Mmph. Good morning."

Following Vixy's gaze, Meryl uttered a long, soft moan, "I want all of them."

"There's like, five," Vixy replied, eyes widening as one of them bent over to pick up something he'd dropped. "You can't have all of them."

"Why not?" Meryl asked, leaning towards the window to try and keep sight of them as the group of foxes faded into the crowd.

"Because I want at least two," Vixy said, turning back to her meal. "I wonder what gym they go to. Why didn't you read their minds and find out?"

"I told you," Meryl said, "My telepathy doesn't work that way. I can sense emotions, not thoughts. I know, it sucks. Anyway, I asked whether you slept well last night since I figured you'd be nervous."

"Not really," Vixy replied, it was only half a lie. She'd fought off nervousness with a combination of fingers, smutty novels, and a certain battery operated device. But, if she brought that up, Meryl would spend the next fifteen minutes begging her for details. "I was too excited. The anxiety only really hit me this morning."

"Why? What did you realize this morning?" Meryl slathered more syrup on her already syrupy food.

"That this is actually kind of a big fucking deal," Vixy answered, sprinkling a bit of salt on her eggs. "This is combat trials for an experimental space superiority fighter. Not to mention these are the _first_ combat trials it's ever been through, simulated or live fire. And, that means I'm gonna be the first one they put through it."

"So?" Meryl continued devouring her waffles, although at times it looked more like she was just swallowing them whole.

"So, it's a big fucking deal," Vixy repeated. "I mean, if I do something wrong, or if I'm not a good enough pilot..."

"They replace you, and pour another ten billion credits into the project for shits and giggles," Meryl said, unimpressed by the supposed gravity of the situation. "So what?"

"I might lose my job," Vixy told her.

"So? When has that ever been a deterrent to bad behavior for you?" There was a teasing, but still serious glint in Meryl's eyes.

"Dammit Meryl, you know what I mean. Besides, if I do well enough in the simulator, maybe they'll choose me for live fire, too. And just think what that could lead to." Vixy started bolting down her eggs. She should probably get going, she didn't want to be late.

Setting her fork down on her plate, Meryl sat back, wiping her whiskers. "I have a feeling I know what you mean, but do you want that?"

The question caught Vixy off guard. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking up from her half empty plate.

"I mean, do you want to become a combat pilot? Fly around, fighting bad guys, taking your life in your hands every time you sail out among the stars?"

Not sure what to say, Vixy thought the concept over in her head. "It...does have an appeal."

"Okay, what's appealing?" Meryl inquired, leaning forward.

"Well, it'd be thrilling," Vixy said, speaking slowly as she contemplated the possibilities of such a career. "I'd feel like I was making a difference, protecting people..."

"You have always been protective," Meryl pointed out. "I can't even count the number of fights you've gotten into to keep creeps off of me."

Vixy snorted. "I was cleared of wrongdoing in all _three_ of them."

"True," Meryl allowed. "So, do you really want to be a fighter pilot?"

"I don't know." Vixy shrugged. "The only way to do it would be through the Defense Force, and I can barely stomach the regulations and oversight I'm dealing with now."

"You could always work for a mercenary outfit," Meryl suggested, though she seemed noncommittal.

"Yeah. Right." Vixy shook her head. "Because Private Military Corps are so much better."

"You're right," Meryl agreed. "Groups like Ares are just as bureaucratic. Shame there isn't, like, the small business equivalent. Or, at least, a small outfit you'd actually want to work for."

"Who knows," Vixy said. In the back of her mind she could feel something trying to get her attention. A half forgotten memory her subconscious was trying to put back together. She ignored it, if it was important it would click eventually. "We'll see how things go today." Vixy quickly finished the last of her eggs, then stood up. Leaning across the table she gave Meryl a kiss on the cheek and said, "Wish me luck."

"Good luck, hon," Meryl replied, giving her a friend a kiss in return.

With that Vixy left, a bit more of a bounce in her step. Her mind wandered, thinking about what it might be like to be a mercenary, out flying the space lanes, clearing out pirates, saving ships in distress. It appealed strongly to her sense of adventure. Her need to live life to the fullest, safety and responsibility be damned.

Checking her phone for the time, Vixy breathed a small sigh of relief. She was a little bit ahead of schedule. That meant she could enjoy her walk to the train station. The Space Dynamics Research and Development Headquarters were located roughly a kilometer outside of Corneria City proper. The corporate headquarters however occupied the top half of one of the most prestigious skyscrapers in Corneria City. Vixy assumed that Argus Phoenix fully intended to buy up the remaining floors just as soon as possible.

As she walked along the sidewalk Vixy took stock of her surroundings. Up ahead and on the other side of the street she could see one of the big, classy movie theaters. She briefly scanned the titles, her eyes alighting briefly on the one for _Star Travel: The Unknown Nation_. She'd heard good things about the movie, Cornerians did love their space operas. There were a few other movies that looked vaguely interesting, a new comedy about galactic hitchhikers, and a drama about the Unification Wars, the last series of conflicts between Cornerians on their home world, back when people were still only dreaming about traveling to other planets, much less other stars.

Spotting the overground train station ahead, Vixy stopped at the nearby crosswalk. Her nose twitched at the various scents of people surrounding her, sorting through the variety of natural and artificial smells that canines were almost hyper aware of. The melange was strong today, probably thanks to the already increasing morning heat.

The crossing sign turned green, and Vixy moved with the herd, her shoes clicking softly on the hexagonal street tiles. To either side of her, the tiles, which were in fact miniature, high efficiency solar panels, blinked first green, then yellow, marking both the borders of the crosswalk and providing a clue for how much longer people had. Vixy recalled her first time in Corneria City, when she'd had to be told by a stranger that, unless she wanted to get run down, she better hold her hand out to the cars, giving the universal signal for "stop". It had shocked her to learn that, on beautiful, paradiscal, borderline utopian Corneria, the traffic wasn't just bad, it could be downright murderous.

Vixy made it safely to the other side, along with the rest of the crowd, and then set off in the direction of the train station. Her ears perked at the sound of engines, but not car engines, no, the electric cars on the road were virtually silent. Instead, her ears told her, these were aircraft. She looked up and saw a group of Federation Spitflaks roaring over the buildings, heading for the airfield near the Federation military base. She paused for a moment, making her hands into a visor over her eyes, watching them until they flew out of sight. Her mind wandered back to the possibility of joining a mercenary outfit. Of taking her life into her own hands, living on the edge, seeing the galaxy, and putting the worst of the worst in the crosshairs of her fighter's targeting scanners. Her muzzle curled upward in a smile, and her tail wagged just a bit. One thing was certain, this was an idea she would need to give much, much more thought to.

* * *

James McCloud stepped into the locker room inside of the Space Dynamics Flight Simulator Complex, one of several sections connected to the larger R&D facility. The locker room was spare, but well maintained. The floor tiles glistened, and the lockers were polished. Off to the side James could see a shower room, and noted with satisfaction that someone had thought to install privacy partitions. He took the flight suit offered to him by Archer with a smile, and said, "I hope I'm not late."

Grunting, Peppy said, "Cutting it a little close."

"Yeah, where were you?" Archer asked, zipping up his suit. "Peppy just gave me one of those eye rolls."

Wagging his tail, James stripped down to his shorts. "Clara was giving me a little morning sugar," he explained.

Cocking an eyebrow, Archer said, "I thought you were sleeping with Jamie last night."

"I was." James glanced over at Peppy, the hare was politely ignoring the conversation. "Clara's her roommate."

"Ah." Archer nodded, stowing his clothes in his locker. James waited. The locker shut, then the lynx's ears shot up. "Wait a second! You slept with Jamie, then her roommate?" He turned back around, surprise written all over his face.

"Jamie first. But we were being a little noisy in round two, and Clara said that if she wasn't getting any sleep she might as well get laid." James shrugged. "So, it turned into sort of a threesome, and then Clara was off this morning so..."

"As usual, Jimmy here decided his hyperactive libido was more important than his work," Peppy finished for him, giving James an all too familiar look. "That about right?"

"Why yes Peppy," James said, grinning from ear to ear, "Yes, I believe it is." He zipped up his flight suit, stowed his clothes, and then added, "I could've gotten here early, but I decided to be nice and shower before I left."

"How courteous." Peppy shook his head, though James knew him well enough to see the subtle hint of good natured amusement mixed in with the irritation. Reaching into his bag, Peppy pulled out three circular items. He handed one each to James and Archer.

"Hey! When did these get here?" James exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the uniform patch. It displayed the Star Fox symbol, a bright red kitsune with a wing like tail emerging from its back, set against a black background.

Slapping it onto his left arm, just beneath the shoulder, Peppy said, "Last night. We've got extras, in case you lose yours. Also, I think the wings look like it's got a tail coming out of its back."

"Oh, I'm not letting this baby out of my sight. Also, shut up." James said, putting it on almost reverently.

Suited up, the three of them exited the locker room and headed for the simulators. "Do we have any idea who we're flying against?" James asked. Glancing around the well lit corridors, and briefly wondering what secrets might be kept behind doors marked "Access Restricted."

Peppy shrugged. "Not sure. But I assume he or she is the best they have."

"Huh." For a moment, James found himself wondering if it might be the same pilot who had buzzed them in the Arwing yesterday. "Well, let's smoke 'em."

"My thoughts exactly," Archer said, cracking his knuckles. "And that reminds me, pop's gonna need me in the shop at some point, assuming we get a day off around here."

"Simulators are gonna be running for us every other day," Peppy said, consulting the schedule briefly on his phone. "They'll use the off days to collate the data and refine the simulations."

"Sounds good," Archer said.

"How is your pop?" James asked, eyes drifting briefly to a group of female researchers as they walked by. _Cute glasses,_ he thought to himself.

"Fine," Archer replied, trying not to smirk in response to James' perpetually wandering eyes. "The shop is doing well, but he still refuses to hire any more people."

"Stubborn man," James said, clucking his tongue.

Archer chuckled. "Yeah. Ma's gonna stick a wrench up his ass one of these days over it. After all, she co-owns the place."

"I assume she's still burying herself in the guts of everything that comes through there," Peppy commented.

"Oh yeah." Archer smiled. "Not a Lynx in the world who doesn't get covered in machine oil."

Opening the double doors to the simulator room, James took a quick look around. Unlike the more common simulator rooms in the complex, this one had been built specifically to test the Arwing. A series of pods stood opposite each other, arranged in neat rows, and elevated from the floor by about three meters. They were accessible by stairs leading up to a surrounding platform. These were the Virtual Reality interfaces that would be used to simulate flight. They were designed to mimic the configuration and flight abilities of whatever craft had been programmed into them. In addition to their use as an early phase of testing for prototypes, they were also commonly used by the military, as well as mercenary outfits, for both general practice, and mission dry runs.

Standing beneath the platform marked "Star Fox" was a young amphibian, a toad by the looks of him. Despite the relative smoothness of his complexion, James could see just the smallest of warts protruding from beneath the green skin. _I wonder what kind of skin product he uses. Must be damn good to keep him looking like that,_ James thought absently to himself. Other than the unusual smoothness, the toad wore a green suit, yellow tie, and gold rimmed glasses. A mustache was also just beginning to appear beneath his nose. "Star Fox?" he asked, looking up from his tablet computer.

"That's us," James said, smiling and holding out a hand. "Beltino Toad, am I right?"

"Uh, well, yes," Beltino said. "Have we met before?" The toad looked confused by James' recognition.

"You were in the file Colonel Pepper gave us yesterday," James clarified. "I never forget a face."

"Oh, well that makes sense then," Beltino answered, taking the proffered hand, then shaking Archer and Peppy's as well. "Allow me to explain the basics of what you'll be doing today." Beltino motioned to the simulators. "These pods have been programmed to the specifications given to us by Colonel Pepper, so I hope you'll find them accurate."

"We use the Defense Force garages every now and then, so he should have all the info on our ships," Archer said. "Including special modifications and alterations I've made. I'll let you know if anything needs a little extra tuning, though."

"I'd appreciate it," Beltino said, his face lighting up at the sound of someone as technically inclined as he was. "There'll be a couple of settling in tests, just things to make sure settings are straight and responsiveness from the simulator is smooth, then we'll be getting into the combat tests."

"Who will we be flying against?" James asked. He wanted to know the name of the test jockey he'd be vaping.

"Vixy Reinard, one of our test pilots. She wasn't my first choice, but Mr. Phoenix insisted," Beltino informed him with a sigh. "She's rather..."

"Reckless? Impulsive? Prone to showing off?" James finished, smiling.

"Why yes. How did you know?" Beltino's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Because he used to wrestle me over action figures on a regular basis." The voice, feminine to be sure, but just a bit husky, came from directly behind James.

Turning around James grinned from ear to ear at the sight. "Vixy! Shit, how long has it been?"

"Four years." Vixy's tail wagged behind her like a propellor, and for a moment it looked it might actually allow her to lift off. "How are you?"

"I'm great," James said. "I started the team."

Vixy's eyes went wide. "Shut up! You're serious?" She gave him a shove, not believing her ears.

"One hundred and eleven percent," James said. "Star Fox is official, and in the good graces of both the Defense Force and, it would seem, Space Dynamics."

James could see the memories swirling behind her eyes at the news. Memories of when they'd known each other on Papetoon, and he'd told her about his childhood dream of being a flying superhero, which had morphed into piloting as he'd gotten earlier. Vixy's eyes turned to the mustached hare. "Peppy? Figures you'd be in on this. There always was a bit of a risk taker in you somewhere."

Smiling, Peppy gave her a hug and said, "Great. I can barely handle James on his own, so now what am I going to do?"

Holding Peppy close, Vixy said, "Give in to your basest desires."

"Not a chance." Peppy pulled back, the smile still on his face.

Archer stepped forward then, holding out his hand. "I'm Archer Lynx. I don't think we've met."

"Vixy Reinard. McCloud's old girlfriend from Papetoon. You from Corneria?" Vixy asked, shaking his hand.

"Born and raised. I met James a couple years ago, back when he was looking for a pair of Switch-Wings to start his team," Archer told her. "I happened to know where to get a few surplus wings, and I said my price was a spot on the team."

"Oh, I like that," Vixy said, nodding in approval.

"Ahem." Everyone turned at the sound of Beltino clearing his throat. The toad seemed a bit surprised at the immediate reaction, and he cleared his throat again a bit more nervously. "Um, I didn't realize you'd all met, but we are on a bit of a schedule..."

"No problem," James said, all business. "Star Fox, move out."

As they moved to the simulator pods, James could feel Vixy's eyes on him. He knew his sudden professionalism would catch her off guard. He'd never been like that when they'd known each other. And, generally, he wasn't like that now. But he was on the job, so he had to channel his usual joviality into a cool professionalism. 'Course, that didn't stop him from moving his tail just enough to let her get a view of his toned rear. She'd always loved it back on Papetoon. He smiled as, behind him, he heard her mutter: "Right. Time to kick their asses." _Bring it on Reinard. Bring it on._


	3. Versus Mode

**Chapter Three**

 _ **Versus Mode**_

Sweat pooled under James' arms. Vixy was a damn good pilot, and that Arwing was making her virtually unstoppable. The G-diffusers allowed her to pull off near impossible maneuvers, and it was all James and his teammates could do not to get vaped over and over.

" _James, I need a little help!"_ came Peppy's voice over the teamcomm, sounding more strained than usual. Peppy had been bearing the brunt of Vixy's attacks this round, and the hare was in danger of actually become enraged.

"On it," James replied, gritting his teeth as he maneuvered his Switch-Wing behind Peppy's. In front of him, almost lined up in his targeting reticule, Vixy continued pouring on the fire, her Arwing's nose cannon lighting up the darkness with green laser flashes. A volley of about five bolts poured from her cannon, two of them hitting Peppy's port wing. The hare began dodging erratically, clearly at a loss for what to do. "Just hold on," James muttered to himself. The targeting reticule aligned.

"I've got you now, bitch," James said, venting some of his frustration in the curse. Holding down the trigger he charged up a shot, the green energy pooling around his forward cannon. Five seconds later he released the trigger, sending the ball of coruscating energy hurling towards the Arwing. "That's right, take it!"

It should have been a kill. It should have been the end of the Arwing, and of Vixy's disgustingly proficient piloting. It should also have provoked a response from the vixen. She should have been pulling away, trying to escape the shot before it incinerated her fancy prototype fighter. Instead she just kept right on at Peppy, pouring fire on him. Just as the bolt was going to hit, the Arwing did that jaunty little barrel roll that she had used to greet him on the fly in to Corneria City. "Going out with style, huh? Typical."

What James expected was an explosion, what he got was the image of his charge shot disappearing, and inflicting not a scratch on the Arwing. "What?! What the hell was that?"

Archer's voice crackled in his earpiece, his voice sounded both awed and worried. _"Gravitic anomaly, looks like a mini-singularity. It just...ate the energy."_

"How?" James asked, watching helplessly as Peppy's fighter broke up and the "pilot down" symbol superimposed itself over the Switch-Wing's HUD. To his credit, Peppy didn't make any sort of dramatic scream, instead taking his third consecutive loss in stunned silence.

" _Must be the G-diffusers. I'd heard they were supposed to do that, but I assumed it was just a rumor."_

"Shit." James adjusted the angle of his pursuit, pouring on a bit more speed as he rocketed after Vixy, the Arwing still in his sights. "Ideas?"

" _Charge shots are gonna be useless,"_ Archer answered. _"She'll just barrel roll them into oblivion. But I don't think she'll be able to do the same with rapid, concentrated fire."_

James nodded, locking on his with two secondary wing cannons. "Engage hyper-lasers."

" _Copy, engaging."_

"Take my wing," James ordered. "I'm getting us a kill today." The Arwing started putting on speed, dodging up and down, left and right, all the while trying to get out of the Switch-Wing's range. "Oh no you don't." James put his Switch-Wing into full throttle. Aiming would be more difficult at this extreme speed, but he didn't plan on accuracy, just on an overwhelming bullet hose.

A proximity alarm beeped briefly to his starboard side, and James spared a glance to see Archer forming up alongside him. _"James, we can't keep up this speed indefinitely,"_ he warned.

"We don't have to," James countered. "We just have to keep it up long enough to teach this vixen a lesson."

" _Copy."_ There was a note of gruff approval in Archer's voice.

A hologram popped up on the cockpit canopy indicating he'd reached optimum range for his hyper-lasers. The moment it registered James started firing. Blue hyphens of death erupted from his wing mounted cannons, all of them flying toward Vixy's Arwing. The Arwing kicked its evasive maneuvers into overdrive, foregoing standard patterns for unpredictability, but some of the strikes hit home. "That's right Vixy, I know you can eat it like a champ," James growled.

" _Say again?"_ Archer asked, opening up with his own hyper-lasers. _"You're on an open comm boss."_

"Nevermind," James answered, smirking as he continued firing. There was no way Vixy could dodge all of that fire, and no way her shields could absorb it for more than a few seconds. _We've got her,_ James thought to himself.

Of course, the moment he thought that to himself, Vixy seemed to pick up on it, and decide that she was far from done. Even as the hyper-laser fire impacted on her shields, she elected to show off another one of the Arwing's capabilities. James, convinced his victory was assured, was too cocky to notice what was happening. In a fraction of a second the Arwing stopped all forward motion, coming to a braking halt that would have flattened a pilot like a pancake in any other craft. But the Arwing's G-diffuser technology was, once again, paying dividends.

"Where'd she go?" James gasped. His answer was a fusilade of high energy lasers impacting his rear shields. "Dammit," he cursed. He did his best to maneuver away, but Vixy was on his tail.

A familiar voice, female, came crackling through his Switch-Wing's speakers. _"What was that about me eating it like a champ?"_

Shaking his head James tried to loop around behind her, but it was too late. Space around him exploded in white light, and the computer announced, "Star Fox Lead is down."

Moments later the computer echoed the same thing for Archer. James collapsed back in his seat, taking a deep breath and running a hand across his sweat slick brow. A countdown appeared on his screens, giving him two minutes to ready up for the next round. Opening his team channel, James said, "Alright guys, we're zero for three here, ideas?"

" _Yeah, don't get shot,"_ Peppy said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Right," James said, shaking his head. If Peppy was that pissed off, then his own sanity was probably in serious jeopardy. The countdown ended, and the light speckled vista of space shimmered into holographic existence. "Star Fox, we're gonna do this, okay?" Acknowledgement lights winked across his HUD. Setting his face in a look of determination, James rocketed ahead, right back into battle.

* * *

Vixy looped and rolled through a simulated asteroid field. Judging by the size and proximity of the floating rocks, she guessed this was meant to be one of the thicker parts of Meteo, Lylat's own belt. Every now and then her proximity warning would blare with an alert about an asteroid too close to dodge, and she would light up the wayward hunk of iron and nickel with a few bolts of high energy lasers, shattering it and peppering her canopy with its remains. Thus far there was no sign of the Switch-Wings she was supposed to be hunting.

This was their fifth round now, the last one having gone, just barely, to Star Fox. They'd managed to triple team her, overwhelming her shields and allowing Peppy to score a kill, even after she'd managed to vape both Archer and James. She had a feeling Peppy was feeling rather proud of that, and that he'd probably hold it over James for a good long while. The thought made her smile, remembering how the two of them used to compete with her in long, obscenity filled videogame sessions back on Papetoon. Considering what they were doing now, she wondered how much had changed.

"Where are they?" she wondered aloud. She wouldn't lie to herself and say she didn't enjoy seeing James again, hearing his voice again. It reminded her of fun times in the back of her parent's car, hoping no one would see it bouncing up and down on the side of the road. Or the time James had been forced into a speech and debate class in high school, and she'd watched him stutter and mumble through his first speech, more nervous than she'd ever seen him.

Passing under one of the larger asteroids, Vixy got a strange feeling. The fur on the back of her neck started to stiffen, and she began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, she was walking into a trap. It would be just like James to be waiting in a dark corner for his chance to pop out and scare the living daylight out of her.

" _Hey Reinard..."_ That voice of his came through the Arwing's comm, crystal clear in the silence of space. _"Eat this."_

Vixy's eyes widened as a target lock alarm sounded. "Nova bomb! Fuck." She did a quick roll, heading deeper into the asteroid belt. If she was lucky it would confuse the bomb's targeting sensors, and then it would either detonate prematurely, or slam into any of the myriad of debris that now surrounded her.

The Arwing looped and dived and dodged through the moving rock pile, and the bomb began to wobble behind her, losing track of her in the mess. A few moments later, as she was about to enter a clearing, the nova bomb detonated, vaporizing a good thousand metric tons of ice and nickel, but leaving her unscathed. Vixy breathed a sigh of relief, but it soon turned to a cry of alarm as her cockpit canopy lit up with the strobing lights of laser fire impacting her forward shields. "It _was_ a trap!" she yelled as she went evasive, too late to avoid the stream of fire coming from Archer's and Peppy's Switch-Wings, which had been lying in wait for her the whole time.

The simulator pod informed her, helpfully, that she was dead, and the countdown began to the next match. "Fifteen minutes?" she looked doubtfully at the timer. "Seriously?"

The pod opened and Beltino's voice filtered through the loudspeakers of the observation deck. "Fifteen minutes people, go shake out your legs."

"Huh. Okay." Vixy climbed out of her pod and bounded down the steps to the ground level. She saw James, Peppy, and Archer walking down, all of them looking a bit haggard. Smiling she waved and walked over to them. "How you guys doing?"

Peppy spat venom at her with his eyes, not trusting himself to say anything in response. Archer just stared at her. James, on the other hand, looked at her appraisingly. "I guess this means that Cornerian flight school agreed with you."

Shrugging, Vixy replied, "That, and the fact that I have so much raw talent."

"Hmmm." James nodded. "I'm gonna get you though."

"Oh really?" Vixy batted her eyelashes at him. "I don't recall you ever being able to catch me before."

Chuckling, James said, "I seem to remember catching you a few times. And that you loved every moment of it."

"Eh." Vixy wobbled her hand in the air.

"Tease." James smirked, the light in his eyes dancing with as much amusement as Vixy's. "Come on, is there a place we can get a drink around here?"

"Yeah, there's a break room down the hall," Vixy said, beckoning them to follow her.

They made their way out of the simulator room, waving in Beltino's direction. He waved back, then tapped his watch, reminding them that they were on a schedule. Vixy guided them down the corridor and into the break room. It wasn't much, but it at least had a few comfy chairs and a vending machine. A window on the far wall looked out at a small park enclosure, and Vixy could see several people sitting on benches taking their lunch outside. "Does it take a card?" James asked, looking suspiciously at the machine's coin tray.

"No." Vixy walked up and put a few coins in. "Get whatever you want, on me."

James hit the button for a grape soda, tail wagging as he bent down to retrieve it. James seemed to sense an opportunity for more vulpine teasing, arching his tail a bit more than necessary to maintain his balance, and giving Vixy a nice view of his rear end. Vixy could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, "You looking at my ass Reinard?"

Standing behind him Vixy indulged herself fully in the sight before her. James' toned, muscular ass was being put on mouth watering display with that tight fitting, green flightsuit of his. Glancing at Peppy and Archer before returning her gaze to James' tail side, Vixy noticed that the snug fit of the male vulpine's flight suit seemed to be unique to him. Not that it surprised her, it would be just like James to try and show off his goods like that. Snickering, Vixy said, "So is Peppy."

"Am not," Peppy growled, glaring at her.

"Aw come on Pep, you know he's got a cute one," Vixy replied, taking James' place at the machine. She hit the button for flavored water, bending over as suggestively as possible when it rattled out. She could feel James drinking in the view, and she reveled in the feeling of both strutting her stuff and the nostalgia she got from doing it for James. _Still, nostalgia is all it is really,_ she thought to herself. Turning back around she unscrewed the cap on the bottle and took a long gulp from it. When she was done she wiped her muzzle and looked directly at James. "Mmm. Zucchini."

James, much to her amusement, blushed a bit, remembering the meaning behind that word. It didn't take him long to shake off the shyness however. "Figures. You always liked zucchini."

Licking her lips, Vixy said, "Mmm. You know it."

Next to them, Peppy and Archer looked between the two of them in mild confusion. It was clear that some sort of old, inside joke was passing between the two foxes, but it zoomed over Peppy's and Archer's heads at warp speed. Peppy racked his brain trying to remember ever seeing Vixy eat zucchini. "Vixy, I thought you hated zucchini. Didn't you used to say it made you gag?"

Both vulpines turned to stare at him, grinning like idiots, their eyes wide as dinner plates. Then, much to the hare and lynx's mounting confusion, the two burst into hysterics. "Oh Pep," James said, collapsing into one of the chairs, hardly able to breathe. "Oh god."

Vixy, tail wagging in a blur, flopped down on James' lap, bending over his knee as she cracked up. "Oh my god. Oh no. Peppy!"

Looking at Peppy, Archer said, "I'll let you deal with this one." The lynx then set about getting himself a drink.

Still confused, Peppy sat down and tried to work through what he'd said. Finally, the two of them got control of themselves, and James replied, "Trust me Peppy, it's nothing you want to know."

"Uh huh." That alone spoke volumes to Peppy. "Where did you end up going to flight school, Vixy?"

Sitting up Vixy put an arm around James' neck, leaning into his shoulder. "Aero Academy," she replied.

Archer whistled, taking a seat next to Peppy. "Expensive."

"Yeah." Vixy shrugged, sipping at her flavored water. "My parents could afford it though. I wanted to get off Papetoon, and I think they were okay seeing me go."

"I doubt that," James said, recalling how close Vixy had been with her parents.

"Nah, they were fine," Vixy insisted. "I still talk to them all the time. But like I said, they knew I didn't like it there, and as mushy as it sounds they always wanted the best for me."  
James nodded, then shifted in his seat. "Um, Vixy?"

"Yeah?" She looked at him, her eyes glittering with a mischievous gleam. She knew what was going on.

"You mind uh, moving to another seat?"

"Sure," Vixy said. "Wouldn't want your flight stick getting jammed, now would we?"

James shook his head, trying not to be reminded of his and Clara's similar banter earlier in the day. "Anyone ever tell you what a freaking tease you are?"

Giggling as she sat down in the next empty chair in the breakroom, Vixy said, "Everyone. I love it."

"Are they always like this?" Archer asked, looking curiously at Peppy.

Letting out a long, explosive sigh, Peppy said, "All the time."

Phones started buzzing before anyone could say anything further. Vixy took a look at hers and said, "Five minutes. We should probably head back. Beltino'll grow a new wart if we get behind schedule."

The four pilots got up and began walking back down the corridor. "He did seem a little jumpy about it," James mentioned.

"Not much of a surprise," Archer said, tossing his empty drink container in a nearby recycling can.

"How do you mean?" James asked.

"The Arwing is massively behind schedule," Vixy explained. "And about twenty-percent over budget. At the rate things are going, she may never see mass production."

"If things are that bogged down, why don't they just kill the project and move on?" Peppy inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Believe me they've tried. But between Air Corp support, and an army of Space Dynamics lobbyists, no one has been able to dismantle the program. Yet," Vixy answered. "Still, we're one big fuck up away from shutdown."

"Surprised they're letting you pilot, then," James quipped. Vixy socked him in the arm, hard enough that James let out a genuinely pained grunt. "Just kidding, jeez."

Vixy rolled her eyes. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Holding out his arm, James said, "I didn't know you were into elbows, but sure."

"That's the McCloud I remember." Vixy cackled at the image that sprang up in her head. It was good to be around James again.

* * *

"Where'd she go?" James looked frantically from side to side, trying to make visual contact with the Arwing. Archer was limping along next to him, one wing shorn off, and his I-Diffuser sparking from Vixy's latest ambush.

The simulator had dumped them in the middle of a deserted space base outside of Sector X. The station was in pieces, leaking debris and radiation in all directions, which was playing havoc with the sensors onboard the Switch-Wings. The only reason Vixy hadn't smoked them already was that the Arwing's sensors didn't seem anymore immune to the interference than they were.

This was their final match of the day, and Star Fox had just barely managed to pull even with Vixy's score. If they got a win here, the first day of combat simulations would be in their favor. And James wanted that win.

 _"No idea,"_ Archer replied. _"You better jet here James, I'm dead weight."_

James shook his head, growling low in his throat. "No member of Star Fox talks like that. Peppy, can you see her?"

 _"Negative,"_ Peppy said. _"No...no wait."_

"What is it?" James' hand tightened around the flight stick.

 _"I saw something on sensors. For an instant,"_ Peppy explained, his voice sounding more crackly in the comms than usual. Damn that radiation.

"It's her," James said, infusing his tone with a confidence he didn't quite feel.

 _"You sure?"_ Peppy's voice was doubtful.

"It's gotta be," James replied. "Hell, who knows? But it's better than nothing."

 _"Right,"_ Peppy didn't sound very reassured.

"Archer, you hang back here," James instructed. "We'll move ahead and check it out. If it's her, we'll smoke her. If it's not her..."

"Then I'm already dead," Archer finished. "Go."

James and Peppy's Switch-Wings boosted ahead, and James muttered a string of curses under his breath. Vixy was a damn good pilot, he'd always known that. Back in the day they'd trained on farm planes, spraying the Papetoon desert crops while pulling off barrel rolls and other maneuvers they had no business doing in a crop duster. Her time at Aero had certainly honed her skills. But the Arwing...well that made an already great pilot nigh on invincible. The combination of speed and maneuverability, along with firepower and durability that easily matched that of the Switch-Wing, led James to understand why they were supposed to gang up three against one. _With the right pilots, just a few of those things could change the course of a war,_ James thought to himself.

 _"James, if this is just a sensor ghost, you know we're in real trouble,"_ Peppy said, breaking James' reverie.

"Yeah, well, we were already screwed."

 _"Your confidence inspires me lead,"_ Peppy groused.

James rolled his eyes. If Peppy was calling him "lead" he really was getting testy. Banking around a cloud of debris, James said, "Archer, anything on your end?"

 _"Negative James, all quiet. My poor Switch-Wing though."_ Archer truly sounded pained about the damage his fighter had taken.

"Just a simulator," James reminded him.

 _"It still has simulated feelings then,"_ Archer argued, his voice in danger of cracking. James couldn't tell if he was being theatrical or not. He probably was.

"Remind me to add psychotherapy to the list of health benefits when this team actually gets off the ground," James said, trying to lighten the mood.

 _"Come out come out wherever you are,"_ Peppy muttered into his mic. The hare immediately regretted saying it.

 _"Light it up bitches,"_ came the staticy voice of Vixy Reinard. Laser fire poured into James' and Peppy's flight path.

"Fuck you!" James yelled, just barely managing to escape without losing a wing. Peppy was less fortunate.

 _"AHHHHHH!"_ The scream was more in anger and frustration than anything else.

 _"Just you and me James,"_ Vixy said. _"Wanna save us both some time and surrender now?"_

"Never," James bit out, managing to maneuver into a workable, if not ideal, firing position.

 _"Awww come on. I'll be gentle,"_ Vixy goaded him, bringing her Arwing up on its port wing and circling around him. James poured as much hyper-laser fire at her as he could.

"Gentle? That can only mean one thing," James answered, breathing a sigh of relief when he managed to stay behind her. The two of them were circling like sharks, taking pot shots at each other.

 _"What?"_ Vixy asked, her breath coming a little faster. That reassured James, it meant she wasn't just toying with him.

"You're an imposter. A filthy fake," James answered, queuing up a nova bomb. He had an idea. He just hoped the radiation would affect her sensors enough not to give it away.

 _"How do you figure?"_

Setting the nova bomb to manual detonation mode, James nosed his fighter onto a course perpendicular to hers. It would give her three seconds where she could fire cleanly at him, but if things went to plan, neither of them would last that long. "Because the Vixy I remember..." A collision alert sounded in his cockpit, he silenced it immediately. Vixy, thinking he was going to play a game of chicken with her, maintained her course, not wanting to be the one who pulled away first. Typical. The two of them were almost nose to nose. James didn't dodge, despite his instincts screaming at him to. Vixy, not wanting to go down in a head on collision, angled her Arwing away, setting a course that would miss him by centimeters. _Perfect._ "...likes it _rough._ "

James hit the control to detonate the bomb, but without bothering to fire it. His Switch-Wing went up in flames, but the explosion caught Vixy at the same time. Both ships disappeared in a blanket of fire and antimatter residue.

The pods popped open, and the computer announced that Star Fox had taken the final match, beating "Team Arwing" by one solid point. "YES!" James pumped his fists in the air, then clambered out of his pod. He ran down the stairs, heading straight for Vixy, who was clearly fuming. "In your FACE!" he called out, pointing both hands at her as he did a victory jig, any sense of professionalism he might have had tossed out the window by the pure elation of victory.

Vixy just smacked his hands and let out a stream of invective to make a sailor blush. Once she'd gotten it out of her system, she said, "I knew I shoulda finished off Archer when you guys left him behind."

"Yeah, but you didn't," James reminded her, grinning cockily as he gave her the finger.

Flipping him off with both hands, Vixy said, "I figured he was bait. And besides, committing suicide? Just so you could get the win? That..."

"Worked," James supplied, grinning.

"Urrrrr!" Vixy beat her fists against her sides.

Stepping between the two of them, Peppy held up a hand and said, "Simmer down, both of you. James, that was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do, and I've seen you do a lot of stupid stuff."

The male vulpine just shrugged. "Hey, we won. Who cares?"

"Oi." Peppy buried his face in his hands.

Archer just shook his head. "Hey, at least I survived."

"Hell yeah you did." James clapped the lynx on his broad shoulders. "Archer, bringing it in for the _win_!"

"Excuse me." A throat cleared, and everyone turned to see a slight, bespectacled fennec in a sweater vest standing at the entrance to the simulator room.

There was a clattering of metal as Beltino rushed down the stairs from the observation area. "Mr. Phoenix! Mr. Phoenix, I didn't know you'd be here."

"I thought I'd drop in," Argus Phoenix said.

Stepping forward, James held out his hand, tail wagging behind him. "I assume you're the head honcho. James McCloud, commander of the Star Fox team."

Shaking his hand, and demonstrating a grip that actually made James wince in surprise, Argus said, "I know all about you Commander McCloud. Pepper sent along your files."

"All about me, sir?" James asked, looking a little shocked.

Chuckling, Argus said, "I'm being a bit dramatic. I know your name, and that you're one of the best pilots in Lylat. The only others who could hold a candle to you are right here, in this room. Tell me, what do you think about the Arwing?"

"It's a monstrosity," James informed him. "In the best possible way. I'd love to get my hands on a few for my team."

Argus nodded, looking considerate. "Hmmm. Continue to impress me in the simulator, and you might just get your wish some day." He shifted his gaze over to Vixy. "Well done Reinard. Well done. I'm confident you'll make up the score in the next session. Right?"

"Yes sir," Vixy responded, staring daggers at James.

"Well, I've got to get going," Argus said. "Just wanted to stop in and say hello. James, Peppy, Archer, Vixy, Beltino." He nodded to each of them in turn, then spun on his heel and walked out, whistling softly to himself.

There was silence for a moment, then Archer let out a, "Whoo! I met him, I met the head of Space Dynamics!"

Everyone laughed good naturedly, then Beltino said, "Just a few things to wrap up, and then I'll let you go. If you'll follow me to the office."

Falling into step behind the toad, James whispered to Vixy, "We cool?"

"We're cool." She glanced at him. "Buy me a drink?"

"More zucchini water?" he asked, elbowing her gently in the ribs.

Elbowing him back hard enough to get an _oof_ Vixy said, "No. Something intoxicating."

"Deal." James looked at her for a moment, then added, "I'm happy to see you."

"Yeah." She nodded, then gave him a sultry little look. "I'll bet you are."

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, I need to make dummy notes for myself so that I don't keep uploading these so late on Fridays. Apologies about that.

This chapter is largely unchanged from the previous version, though it's a little more fleshed out detail wise. The next chapter however will be completely new, with nothing you will have seen before. I'll have a wee bit more to say for an author's note in that chapter as well. Like I said, though, these notes won't be on any regular basis.

See you all next Friday! (Hopefully earlier)

Vixy: It won't be.

Shut up.


	4. Brahmins, Politicians, and Tinkerers

A/N: Just a a couple of quick notes here. This is all new stuff. After this, five and six are heavily modified versions of ones you've seen before, but once we hit seven, we're in uncharted territory. I want to thank everyone for sticking around, and especially those of you who have been reviewing. I really appreciate it :)

And second, this is an OC heavy chapter. And by OC heavy, I mean literally everyone is an OC. This is also a chapter that I used to indulge my desire to world build for the Ascended Universe (which is what you're reading with First Generation), so, characters like Jack and Agnus Vulpine show up mainly because I wanted an excuse to introduce them and set them up for later stories. And, well, I just love reading their lines in a very nasally, JFK Bostonian accent.

That said, there's plenty of plot relevance in this chapter. I won't tell you what it is, but there's some very important things being mentioned here, that will come up again in later chapters.

Now, with that out of the way, enjoy a fresh new chapter, and I'll see you for the next one next Friday!

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

 _ **Brahmins, Politicians, and Tinkerers**_

"I hate parties," Argus muttered to himself as he shut the door to his car, stowing the keys in his pocket. He looked up at the towering mansion. Done in Cornerian Classic, the mansion stood in stark contrast to the more preferred New Modern style. Rather than the clean, functional lines, glimmering glass, and shimmering steel of most modern buildings, the Brahmin Vulpine House was made of white marble, with high fluted columns, and tall, narrow windows. Carefully manicured gardens surrounded it, making Argus wonder if every blade of grass, every flower petal, had been minutely adjusted by the most obsessive compulsive gardener the Vulpine family could find. He shrugged to himself, not wanting to bother thinking too much about it.

A short gravel path led from the driveway where he'd parked his car to the house. Argus' footsteps made a loud crunching noise as he walked up to the door. Pausing for a moment he looked back into the well lit night, and wondered briefly if he was the last to arrive. Turning back to the door, made of wood, oak if he had to bet on it, he lifted his hand and gave several soft, polite knocks. He knew there was a party going on inside, the noise of sophisticated, tasteful string instruments floating out through an open window nearby, the music accenting the numerous murmured conversations that Argus' fennec ears could already pick up. Despite the noise though, pressure sensors linked to the door would inform the doorman of the arrival of another guest. The door opened.

Standing tall and dour in the entryway, the timber wolf butler looked down at Argus. Not for the first time, Argus felt distinctly aware of his height. Or lack thereof. "Argus Phoenix, I believe I'm on the guest list." Despite the size differential Argus' voice was firm and confident. Though aware of his height, Argus never allowed larger species to use it against him, whether intentionally or not.

The butler looked down at a small tablet held in the crook of his arm, scrolled through a list of names, and then nodded. "Welcome to Vulpine House, of the Brahmin Class for three hundred years at midnight tonight."

 _How utterly unimpressive,_ Argus thought silently to himself, walking forward as the butler ushered him in. The door shut behind him and the timber wolf announced his name, giving Argus a chance to look around. He felt severely underdressed in his button down, slacks, and sweater vest. At least he'd remembered a bowtie. _Coat tails? These people really do live in a different century._ The parlor the guests were milling about in, eating finger sandwiches and sipping expensive champagne, was massive. Paintings hung on the walls, grim and, occasionally, happy portraits of the Vulpine family through the generations. A brigadier general here, a Federation Council Member there, but more often than not just another fox who had inherited a fortune, and managed to die without spending it all.

Once he'd been announced, Argus started to join the mingle. He smiled, exchanged a bit of small talk, and mostly focused on being seen by as many people as possible, without leaving too lasting an impression on any of them. He wanted to get out of here just as soon as he could without being rude. He did his best to avoid the topic of the Cornerian inheritance tax, and Federation estate tax, which had both been raised last month with the help of some quiet lobbying from his own company, on the provision that part of the new income go into grants for research and development, which companies like his typically benefited from. _Amazing the amount of wealth they sit on, none of which they've earned, and they still have the gall to complain about giving just a little more back to society. Or, at least, to companies like mine that are improving society. Ostensibly. I think I better shut up before I actually say something monumentally stupid._

From one group to the next he moved, his smile not fixed in place, but ready to be called up at a moment's notice. He listened to names, dodged questions, and did his best to remember important details about the moderately more important individuals he met, in case they came in handy later. Then, just as Argus was talking to a rather beautiful vixen of...low cut taste, he heard a deep, rumbling voice from behind him that truly did make him smile. "Argus Phoenix? I thought I saw a pair of ears poking above the crowd."

Turning around, his tail giving a slow wag, Argus looked up at an absolute beast of a man. His white fur, grey spots, and long, fluffy tail, identified him as a snow leopard, a species native to the frozen, but mineral rich world of Fichina in Lylat's outer orbit, and the newest members of the Lylat Federation. "Cedwyn Llewellyn, I didn't expect to see you here."

Grinning, and pulling the much smaller Argus into a hug that nearly crushed the fennec, Cedwyn Llewellyn said, "You're a terrible liar."

Once his feet made contact with the ground again, Argus arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you saying I've been invited here for any reason other than to enjoy a..." Argus looked around at the other party-goers, all of them maintaining polite, and sometimes engaging conversation. No dancing, at least not yet, though presumably that too would be a restrained affair, done in traditional dances, to music equal parts classic and boring. "Well, alright, I suppose you caught me."

Cedwyn laughed, loud enough that he drew a few strange glances from people nearby. Peering over Argus' shoulder, the snow leopard said, "If you'll excuse us miss."

The vixen curtsied politely and shuffled off to find different company. Argus looked after her briefly, his eyes drifting down to look at the way her tail swayed as she walked, calling attention to an attractive pair of hips. "I wouldn't bother," Cedwyn said, putting an arm over Argus' shoulder and guiding him out of the parlor. "Too thin."

Argus blushed. "I suppose I am being a bit obvious. And, too thin? Really?"

Cedwyn chuckled. "Yes really. I prefer women with something to hold onto. But then I have big hands. If you need company though, I'm sure a man of your wealth wouldn't have too hard a time finding it."

"I want a relationship, not a hooker," Argus grumbled. "And one that has nothing to do with my money."

"Good luck." Cedwyn shook his head. They had left the parlor and the-Argus hesitated to call them partiers-behind, moving into the more private areas of the house. They stopped in front of a doorway, ornately carved with scenes from the Vulpine's family history. Argus scanned them briefly, wondering just how impressed he needed to be in order to be polite. Honestly, Brahmins had far too high an opinion of themselves and their importance. Cedwyn turned the knob and walked into the room without the slightest hesitation. "We can talk privately here."

Argus glanced around, and this time he actually was impressed. They were in what appeared to be the family library. Book cases lined three of the four walls, each of them reaching from floor to ceiling, and filled to the brim with real, physical books. Argus' nose twitched at the lovely aroma of old leather bindings and well aged ink and paper. Making no effort to hide his astonishment, he approached one of the shelves and glanced at the titles, reaching out to brush the tips of his fingers against some of the volumes. "Amazing."

Walking over to a table set against the room's large window, Cedwyn reached for a glass bottle and cup and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. "Most of those volumes aren't in physical print anymore. I've been told you can download most of them, but a few you can't find anywhere outside of a rare bookstore. And even that isn't a sure thing." Lifting the glass to his muzzle, Cedwyn took a sip, swallowed, and sighed appreciatively. "I've spent hours reading in here."

Turning around, tail swishing behind him in amusement, Argus said, "You? Read? Now that is amazing."

Eyes alight with his perpetual good humor, Cedwyn said, "Foxes. Doesn't matter the type, all of you are sassy."

"We do try to be," Argus replied, taking a seat on one of the couches. Cedwyn sat down opposite him, the two separated by a coffee table filled mostly with neatly stacked magazines. "So, what's up, because I know you're the only reason I'm on the guest list."

Nodding, Cedwyn said, "Sharp as ever. I keep telling you to run for office."

"Since I'm so sharp, what does it tell you about the fact that I haven't?" Argus teased.

"That you're still not as sharp as me," Cedwyn replied, managing to hold a straight face for a grand total of three seconds. The two of them shared a good laugh, then Cedwyn brought them back to business mode. "The Arwing is going to be under budget review sometime in the next few months. I wanted to let you know that, barring some catastrophe, I should be able to prevent any cuts. Might even get an increase. If it's needed." Cedwyn emphasized that last word.

"I always need budget increases," Argus replied, serious. "I'm not just building the military a new fighter craft, I'm inventing a whole new generation of spaceships. The G-Diffuser..."

Cedwyn held up a hand, his tail flicking next to him on the couch. "Spare me the sales pitch, you know I'm already sold. But you oughta know, Thema Corp is lobbying very hard to get their Spitflak MK II approved. And they've got a lot of pull on the Council right now, especially since they're offering a contract with us for development and manufacture that is a fraction of what the Arwing is costing us."

Argus bit back his initial reply, which would have leaned heavy on harsh language and ridicule. Thema Corp had been the dominant provider of ships and fighters to the Federation military for over fifty years, and they were none too happy about Space Dynamics encroaching on what they considered to be their territory. "You know the only reason they can build and design for less is because they'll be relying on I-Diffuser technology. I'm offering revolution, they're providing status quo. A status quo that'll be outdated in five, ten, fifteen years at the most."

Reaching up, Cedwyn scratched the soft fur beneath his chin. "We've been using I-Diffusers for generations Argus. I doubt anything is going to replace them quite that fast."

"That's because you're a politician, not an engineer," Argus groused. "You're used to change coming at a glacial pace. I don't have that luxury, and when it comes to military technology, you don't have it either. I'm telling you, the I-Diffuser is on the way out, and you don't want to be stuck behind the curve when it goes."

"Mmm." Cedwyn sighed. "Like I said, you do have me convinced. It's a question of the rest of the relevant Council members. And, I'll be honest, the Arwing has been getting some bad press recently. It's being called corporate welfare over how huge the budget is. Now don't get me wrong, the Federation, and Cornerians especially, love welfare, but not for corporations. So we're both walking on thin ice with this."

"It's hardly welfare considering Space Dynamics can survive without this contract," Argus argued. "Our bottom line is healthy, and we've carved out a nice, profitable niche in the civilian market."

"I'm just letting you know that that's the attack line against the Arwing at the moment," Cedwyn replied, taking another sip from his glass before setting it down on the coffee table between them. "Whether or not it'll actually be effective is a whole different argument. I wouldn't worry too much at the moment though. Like I said, barring a catastrophe of some sort, the contract is safe for at least another year. It'd be nice if you could have it done by then, though."

Argus adopted a noncommittal expression. "We'll see."

"There was something else I wanted to ask about, before we get to the main reason I brought you here," Cedwyn told him, taking a sip from his glass. "Do you want some? It's very good."

"I'm driving, thanks." Argus shook his head.

Cedwyn shrugged, then said, "I wanted to ask," he leaned forward, his voice becoming a bit more hushed, "How are things coming with the Gate?"

A faint smile crossed over Argus' features. The Interdimensional Warp Transfer Gate, referred to simply as the Gate, was the other top secret project that Argus, Beltino, and a few other hush hush brain cases at Space Dynamics and a few government research labs were working on for the Federation. "Slowly," Argus replied in the same hushed tone. "Though I do have some promising news." Cedwyn stared at him with rapt attention. "We conducted our first successful lab test with the new prototype."

"Amazing!" Cedwyn pumped his fist in the air. As a member of the influential Research and Development caucus the Gate project had been one of his top priorities. It had also been the one priority he couldn't talk about in public. In fact, the only reason Cedwyn knew about it in the first place had been because he was the ranking member of the Council Budgetary Committee. From what he had told Argus, after seeing the money flying out the window he'd confronted the President, and the administration had been forced to tell him. His reaction had been more or less that of an eighth grade science project winner. Argus loved that about him.

"Calm down, we only sent a single cesium atom a distance of ten millimeters," Argus told him, though his tail wagged at recounting the success.

"But things are progressing?" Cedwyn asked, his enthusiasm not dampered in the slightest.

"Yes. Slowly, but yes."

"Hot damn. You talk about G-diffusers and all but this, this could totally change the way we see the galaxy," Cedwyn gushed. "Until now we've been limited to our own local cluster. True, we did try colonizing the Expanse a century ago, but the logistics of it were just beyond our technology. Even with modern warp drives and communications relays, the prospect is so daunting and resource intensive there doesn't seem to be much point. If this works though, we're talking about crossing interstellar distances in the snap of a finger. And that, that will change the game forever."

"You're oversimplifying a bit," Argus cautioned. "But in principle, there is that potential."

A big grin split Cedwyn's features. "Argus?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you aren't thinking of running for office? Because you're equivocating like an Assemblyman at a town hall."

Rolling his eyes, Argus said, "Was there another reason you asked me here, or did you just want to insult me?"

"You say it as if you don't enjoy it." Cedwyn chuckled. "But yes, I wanted you to meet a couple of people. In fact, they should be coming in any minute now."

As if on cue, the door to the library opened and a nasally voice said, "Cedwyn, what are you doing in here?"

"Yes, the party is outside," a second, much more feminine voice added.

Cedwyn stood up and gestured subtly for Argus to do the same. Turning around, Argus arched an eyebrow. Standing in the doorway were two foxes of medium height, their deep brown eyes sparkling with intelligence, and an upward tilt to their muzzles that managed to say both that they noticed the smell of the unwashed masses, but that it didn't bother them in the slightest. Standing next to each other, it was clear the two of them were siblings, and twins at that. Argus noted the similar body language, and the near identical features. The only major difference between them seemed to be their sexes. The one on the left, slightly taller, with a classically handsome look, was male, while on the right stood a vixen who, though striking, didn't quite manage to be overwhelmingly beautiful. Despite that, Argus sensed that no one had any trouble remembering her after she left a room.

Stepping forward, and motioning for the two foxes to enter the room, Cedwyn said, "Argus, I'd like you to meet Jack and Agnus Vulpine."

The names clicked immediately. Argus kicked himself for not putting two and two together. Though perhaps he could be forgiven, considering how many families, several of them Brahmins, on Corneria were saddled with the all too generic name of Vulpine. "Aren't you two both running for the Assembly? Corneriapolis Province?"

"Someone remembered us, we must finally be making headway," Agnus said, stepping forward and holding out her hand. "I tell you it's this name of ours. Utterly unmemorable. It's why we're putting our first names on all our campaign advertising."

Argus took her hand and shook, noting the firm, confident grip. Her brother Jack walked over and said, "She's lucky enough to have an interesting, less common name these days. Jack is hardly much better." He shook Argus' hand as well, gracing the fennec with a dazzling smile. "You know Cedwyn has told us quite a bit about you."

"Oh really?" Argus glanced at the snow leopard. "Good things, I hope."

"Very good," Agnus told him. "And don't worry, we won't ask for a phone number for donations."

"Thank you," Argus said, relief in his voice. "You have no idea how many of those calls I'm getting." Then, out of curiosity, "Is there any reason you aren't asking me though?"

Jack answered, "Our family has more money than we know what to do with. And since Cornerian campaign advertising is allocated equally between candidates, we don't have nearly the expenses that we'll have when we run for Council seats."

"Or president," Cedwyn mentioned.

Argus eyebrow went up again. "Are you grooming them?"

Cedwyn shook his head. "Just advising. Though they have quite the future ahead of them, if I'm allowed to say so."

"Cedwyn is being modest," Agnus said, looking at the older man admonishingly. "He gave us our start after he heard us doing a speech for a local non-profit we've been working for."

Jack chuckled. "As I recall he said my nasal voice would be my biggest asset in public speaking."

"It's distinctive," Cedwyn said. "Corneria City's late night hosts are already imitating it."

"A somewhat dubious honor," Agnus said.

"But an honor nonetheless," Jack added.

Argus shook his head. These two were naturals. And far more personable than he had expected given their social class. It wasn't any wonder to him now why they'd chosen to run as a packaged deal. They clearly worked well enough together that they could finish each other's thoughts. Argus decided he'd have to keep a closer eye on them than he had been. It wouldn't hurt to have some close relationships with up and coming politicians in the Cornerian Assembly. Planetary government could have almost as much effect on his business as the larger Federation government.

Glancing down at his watch Argus noted the time to himself, then said, "Well, I hate to say it but I better be going."

"Do you have a date?" Cedwyn asked, looking at Argus suspiciously.

"Uh, no." Argus eyed the snow leopard, wondering why he'd asked that question.

"Late night meeting?"

"No."

"Conference call?"

"Again, no." Argus noticed the twins trying to hide their smiles.

"Well then, you're not going anywhere. Except back out to the party." Cedwyn put his arm around Argus' shoulders again and started guiding him out of the library. "And I'll see if I can find you a date while we're out there."

"That's really not necessary," Argus protested, realizing from the firm grip Cedwyn was maintaining that there would be no escape.

"A one night stand then. You really do seem tense," Cedwyn told him.

"Cedwyn..." Jack said, his tone holding a bit of mild reproach. "What have we told you about trying to fix people up at these parties?"

"Right, that that's not why people come to them. Brahmins. I'll never understand you." Cedwyn shook his head.

Jack and Agnus rolled their eyes affectionately, then put on their best smiles as the four of them rejoined the party. Argus did the same, resigning himself to a night of boring conversation, sedate music, but, at least, very expensive champagne.

* * *

"Archer! Archer! Breakfast!"

"Ugh." Archer Lynx opened his eyes and ran a hand down his face. Why did they have to have breakfast so damn early? "Coming!"

Throwing off the covers, Archer stretched his burly arms and started to stand up, forgetting that there was a bunk bed right above him. His forehead made direct and hard contact with it, prompting a pained yelp. "Ow! Fuck!" Rubbing his head he managed to extricate himself, staring bitterly at the top bunk where his older brother Gerald used to sleep. Archer had vivid memories of his brother hanging over the side and just staring at him until he woke up, never failing to scare the crap out of the younger Archer. At least he'd stopped once Archer had gotten old enough to grab him by the neck and throw him down to the floor.

Sunlight was just peeking through the blinds of his bedroom window, but it still wasn't bright enough to drive away all of the early morning shadows. Clicking on his lamp, Archer glanced around. He and his family had lived in this house for as long as he could remember. A single story home in the suburbs of Corneria City which they'd bought and paid for with partial government assistance at the tail end of the Third Great Recession, not long after his parents had gotten married and his Ma was pregnant with Gerald. It was a nice enough house, and now that Ma and Pop had a working shop they didn't need the government check anymore, which made his Pop happy and his Ma grumpy. She would have preferred to keep taking it so they could move into something bigger.

Opening his bedroom door Archer made his way out to the kitchen, following his nose to the scent of eggs and toast. His parents ate light in the mornings, though their lunch sandwiches were legendary for both their size and composition. He found his mother and father sitting at the table, his mother reading the morning paper on her phone, the news projected in holographic form, and utilizing motions sensors so she could turn the pages with a swipe of her hand. His father was working intently on a piece of machinery, two delicate manipulators in his hand that almost looked like chop sticks. Archer recognized the piece of equipment immediately. "Optronic relays at breakfast Pop? Not exactly starting your day easy." Archer took a seat and smiled as his mother pushed a plate of eggs and buttered toast in his direction, not looking up from the article she was reading.

"Start the day hard, end the day easy," his father said, his voice even more gruff and deep than Archer's. He looked up from the relay and smiled, "And I know, I've told you that motto a thousand times."

Archer smiled back, getting some eggs on his fork and saying, "It's a good motto. I hate to tell you I can't stick around to help today. You'll have to get your free labor elsewhere."

His mother, still not looking up from her article, said, "We'll manage. Maybe we'll call Gerald."

"Isn't he busy with his own life?" Archer asked, biting into his toast.

"So are you, never meant you couldn't lend a hand," Archer's father put in.

"I guess." Archer sighed happily at the taste of the food. "Good breakfast. The toast is great."

"I upgraded our toaster a few days ago," his mother told him, finally looking up from her newspaper. "We've got thirty-six different settings now. Up from twenty-eight."

"I bet you you'll never break forty," Archer said, fully aware of the danger of challenging his mother.

"You're on," she said. Then she stood up, walked into the kitchen, unplugged the toaster, and brought it back to the table. Setting it down she walked into the living room, grabbed one of the numerous toolkits that were kept throughout the house, and sat back down. "We have an hour until the shop opens," she explained.

Archer laughed and finished his food, watching with genuine interest as his mother opened up the toaster and set to work. The thing probably didn't have an original, factory made piece left in it.

Finishing up his food, Archer stood up and said, "I'm gonna go ahead and get showered and dressed. James will be here in a couple hours to pick me up."

"Is your car not working?" His father looked at him with a combination of concern and hopefulness. Concern that his son's means of transport wasn't working, hopefulness that he'd be able to go in, fix it, and probably improve it a bit while he was at it.

"It's working fine," Archer told him. "I just didn't wanna waste the electricity on driving through the city."

"You could take the bus," his mother pointed out.

"The train is only ten minutes walk from here," his father added.

Archer stared at them for a moment, and then said, "I feel like air conditioning."

His parents exchanged glances, then shrugged. His mother said, "Fair enough."

Shaking his head, Archer headed for the bathroom. He shut the door and stripped down, looking at himself briefly in the mirror. A long, ugly scar made its way down his left pectoral, a reminder of an accident he'd had doing some repair work down at one of the Corneria City ports. It had been a stupid accident, and one he could have avoided if he'd been paying close enough attention. Naturally though he'd been too concerned with showing off for one of the other repair workers, a very fit and attractive female cheetah, to pay attention to what he was actually doing. The doctors at the hospital had offered him dermal and fur regeneration, but Archer had declined, preferring to keep the scar. Pop said it made him look tough, and Ma said it would serve as a good reminder not to pull anymore stupid stunts.

Getting the water in the shower running Archer waited until it warmed up, then stepped in, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of the warm, clear water impacting on his fur. As usual, the water pressure was phenomenal, all benefit of his parent's "if it ain't broke make it better" attitude towards home repair. Grabbing the shampoo Archer squeezed it out and lathered it up in his hands, scrubbing it into his fur with gusto. As he did so his mind drifted to thoughts of the Arwing, a craft he had never flown, but was rapidly falling in love with.

They'd been fighting in the simulators for more than a week now, and Vixy, the Arwing's test pilot, had managed to pull into a clear lead in terms of matches won. She was an exceptional pilot, and combined with the fact that the Arwing offered unprecedented technological advantages, with speed, power generation, and maneuverability all far beyond anything else on the market or in development, meant that she was nigh unstoppable. It was often all he, James, and Peppy could do to hold their own.

Archer knew that the three of them were some of the best pilots in Lylat. It might have sounded like an idle boast, but ask anyone who had actually seen them fly and they'd tell you the same thing. When Archer thought about that fact, and factored in the immense power of the Arwing, he got the feeling that one day, nothing in the galaxy would be able to compete with Star Fox. And that thought alone was enough to make him smile, and feel good about the future.


	5. Sudden Escalation

**A/N: Rated M for a reason.**

 **Chapter Five**

 _ **Sudden Escalation**_

Looking up at the Cornerian Mall was a daunting enough experience from the outside, but the place where the view truly became astonishing was in the interior. Looking up at the glass ceiling, the light from Lylat and Solar pouring in and illuminating the long corridors and escalators between floors, James was stunned by the image of the roof curving off into the distance. The entire mall was designed as an arch, with dozens of levels and hundreds of stores, restaurants, and shops, catering to every background and social strata.

The roof wasn't the only thing made to look impressive. As James and his two friends, Vixy and her friend Meryl, walked along the ground floor, their shoes clicked and clacked against the marble tiles. The marble itself was done in different colors, with each of the colors forming and intermixing to create abstract images. Fountains sprayed water up in the air, some of them shooting little jets into and out of each other in gravity defying combinations, while others were more sedate and understated. Gardens and trees added the green, living feel that Cornerians had an acute fondness for. Benches were placed in convenient spots, often occupied by screen perusing individuals, or families giving their littler children a moment to rest before diving back into the thick of things. Holoscreens were positioned at regular intervals, offering directions, assistance, and a dizzying variety of advertisements.

And the people. An absolutely incredible number of people were present at all times and from all walks of life. In fact, if James looked hard enough, which wasn't that hard at all, he could spot people not only from other planets in Lylat, but from other star systems as well. One particular group caught his interest before Vixy pulled him away with a mildly scolding look on her face. It was a group of about five blue furred foxes, and one blood red, with tattoos and just enough clothing to be decent. One of them, with her hourglass figure, long, thick hair, and an even less modest attitude than any of the others drew a lingering stare from James. Just as Vixy pulled him away, the blue vixen turned to face him, resting a finger just above her cleavage, before sliding it down between her breasts with a suggestive wink. "Come on James," Vixy said, yanking him by the arm.

"Cerinians," Meryl explained as they moved on. "They don't have any sense of body shame. Clothing is very much an optional affair for them. Though they have an absolute obsession with jewelry."

"Uh huh," James replied, only half listening. He kept looking over his shoulder hoping to catch another glimpse of the blue vixen, but she and the rest of her group had disappeared in the crowd. "I think she was flirting with me."

"You think everyone is flirting with you." Vixy snorted.

"She winked at me with a finger between her tits," James argued. "If that's not flirting, I don't know what is."

Meryl laughed. "Yeah, that's flirting."

"Thank you." James smiled at the pink feline for her back up.

"One thing you should keep in mind," Meryl said as they walked, sounding in her element when talking about her mother's culture, "Is that Cerinians mate for life. They flirt like the dickens, but if that vixen has made her choice, nothing can break her away from it."

"Not even James?" Vixy asked, arching an eyebrow. "How sad for him."

Meryl chuckled. "Yeah. I hate to say it James, but I have a feeling she was already taken."

"How can you tell?" James did his best to mask his disappointment. Oh the things he would have liked to do with that sapphire vixen. His mind drifted back to the image of that finger between those two, pillowy mounds.

"I sensed the bond," Meryl said.

"What?" James looked confused. He'd only been half listening, his mind still sifting through fantastical images of him and the Cerinian.

"They're telepaths," Vixy said, recognizing the far away look in James' eye, and doing nothing to stop him from running face first into the narrow end of a holoscreen.

With a grunt and an embarrassed tilt to his ears, James glowered at the vixen and her feline friend as they laughed at him. "Thanks for the warning."

"Awww, you deserved it," Vixy answered, sticking her tongue out. Then she spun about on her heel and headed for a nearby escalator, a little hop in her step and bounce in her tail.

James looked after her for a moment, admiring the sway of her hips. Vixy had always had nice hips. And slender, sexy legs. Then he noticed Meryl staring at him, her smile turning into a full fledged grin. "What?" James asked, starting after Vixy.

"Oh nothing. Nothing at all." Meryl matched step with him, and the two of them caught up with Vixy.

"So, you were saying the Cerinians are telepaths?" James said, taking the escalator stair directly beneath Vixy.

"Mmhmm," Vixy responded. "They can read minds. So she probably knew you were eyebanging her that whole time."

"She didn't seem to mind," James said, a smirk playing along his muzzle.

Vixy rolled her eyes, whacking him softly upside the head. "Perv."

James stuck his tongue out and crossed his arms. "Never used to turn you off."

"Piss off."

Standing just beneath James, and two steps beneath Vixy, Meryl looked up at the two of them and sighed inwardly. If only they knew how they felt about each other. She'd been with them for a grand total of an hour, and already she could sense the attraction that was lingering between them. Not love. Nothing as mature as that. But there was something there. Not nothing. A spark. Or maybe embers neither of them had bothered to stoke for a long time. Watching the two of them laugh and trade a slew of dirty jokes, Meryl decided she better do something about the two of them. And she better do it fast. _And I have just the idea._

* * *

The dressing room door shut behind James with a satisfying click. He smiled and looked at the bundle of clothes in his arms, not bothering to turn around. These jeans looked like just the perfect cut to show off everything he had going on beneath his waist. They wouldn't be too obvious, but he could tell they'd be enticing. And what was a fox who didn't walk around looking like an absolute tease?

"James? What are you doing?"

The voice came from behind him, and James just about jumped out of his fur. Turning around he looked at Vixy standing there, a look of surprise on her face. She was wearing nothing but her bra and panties. James couldn't help but stare, drinking in her slender, beautiful frame. The flat belly, the hips that curved outward just slightly, the legs that looked toned and powerful without being too muscular. His eyes traveled up to the modest swell of her chest, and the slight slope of her shoulders. Her soft, cream colored neck. And then her eyes, green like his, like two glimmering emeralds. "Ummm..."

Vixy, once she had gotten over her surprise, didn't seem all that off put by his sudden entrance. She realized, belatedly, she'd forgotten to mark the room as occupied. Crossing her arms beneath her tiny bust, she said, "Can I help you?"

James shook his head, managing to rally himself back to self awareness. "Yeah. I mean no. I mean, what?"

A smile curled Vixy's muzzle. Truth be told James seeing her in nothing but her undergarments didn't faze her in the slightest. He'd seen her naked more than once, and they'd never been shy with each other back on Papetoon. "Well, as long as you're here, did you want to get changed?"

It took James half a second to register her offer. He could feel his initial shock and nervousness dissipating. With a crooked smile James said, "Yeah. I guess I might as well."

Tail swishing behind her, Vixy said, "Alright then. Let's see."

Still with that crooked smile firmly in place, James unzipped the jeans he was wearing and pulled them down. He didn't bother being shy about the fact that his underwear were a bit tented. Not all the way, but enough that he was sure Vixy would pick up on it. Stepping out of his jeans he set them on the bench in the dressing room, then turned to face Vixy. Holding up two pairs of denim pants that he'd grabbed, he said, "What do you wanna see first?"

Watching him slip his pants off, Vixy had to stop herself from biting her lip. Every inch that they slid down was tantalizing. She'd seen it all before, though she hadn't realized just how much she wanted to see it again. When he was finally done, standing there in his shorts and shirt, and holding up two pairs of pants while asking which one she wanted to see first, Vixy came to a decision. _Fuck it. I've always wanted to do something like this. And James is really the only one I think I'd feel comfortable doing it with. Chalk that up to familiarity._

Stepping forward, Vixy closed the distance between them, her tail swaying behind her. "I think I want to see," she reached out with a hand and rested it on the bulge in his underwear, "this first."

James shuddered a bit as he felt those fingers close around him for the first time in years. It stirred up all sorts of mixed emotions. Part of him wanted to restrain himself, something quite unusual for the tod. He didn't want to ruin the friendship they'd been building the past few weeks. Then again, he'd had sex with plenty of his friends, and it hadn't changed much of anything. _Fuck it. I've always wanted to do something like this. And Vixy is really the only one I think I'd feel comfortable doing it with. Must be the familiarity._ "You sure?" he asked, that crooked smile of his turning into a full on smirk.

Squatting down in front of him, Vixy hooked her fingers into the elastic of his boxers and tugged them down. "Yup." James' member bounced out, and Vixy gave it an appraising look. He had, in the space of a few seconds of her coming onto him, gone from half hard, to fully rigid. A good sign, since it meant she wouldn't have to worry about him having any performance issues. Wrapping her fingers around it she planted a kiss on his head, smiling as she felt him wobble a little. "I think it's a little bigger," she told him, pitching her voice as low and soft as possible.

Looking down at Vixy, her lips hoving centimeters from the tip of his length, James couldn't help but get a big dopey smile on his face, erasing the smirk that had been resting there a moment before. Keeping his voice low like hers, he said, "Really?"

"Mmm." She hummed, dragging her tongue from the base to the top, sampling his taste. "I could just be remembering wrong. You always had such a big one."

Chuckling softly, his tail wagging behind him, James scratched the back of his neck and replied, "So I've been told."

Giggling a bit in response, Vixy wrapped her muzzle around his member, getting the first few inches in her mouth. He filled her out, bumping against the back of her throat with still a little more than half to go. Pulling back she let her tongue lash the underside of his maleness, and when she had pulled back almost all the way, she let her front teeth brush his flesh lightly. James gasped in response, looking down at her with surprise and pleasure written all over his face. "You remembered."

"Mmhmm." Vixy just hummed in response and started the trip back down again. She made sure to pace herself, even if his sharpening scent and the sensation of his hands settling between her ears made her want to force herself all the way down right then and there. She knew to resist the urge though, James was big enough that even with the years of experience she'd gained since the last time she'd been with him, she wasn't quite sure if she could swallow him all. _I'm sure as hell gonna try though._

The next few minutes passed in a sort of sordid haze. James found himself panting and trying to keep from moaning as Vixy's head bobbed back and forth on his length. Breathing in through his nose he could smell Vixy's aroused scent beginning to fill the dressing room. Thank the Ascended the door reached all the way to the floor, or they'd probably have given themselves away to the whole corridor of other rooms. "Oh fuck Vixy," he breathed, his fingers clutching at her soft blonde hair. "D-do you think you can get a-all the way down?"

Looking up at him without stopping, Vixy flicked her tail and started sinking further and further down. She valiantly fought against her gag reflex, something she'd not yet been able to tame and slave to her will. She knew such a thing was possible, or at least that Meryl claimed it was possible. _Shit. I forgot Meryl is here. She's probably wondering where we went. Better finish this fox fast._ Reaching up with her right hand, Vixy cradled James' balls in her palm, massaging them gently with her fingers. If it weren't for having a mouthful of the tod she'd have smiled as she felt them tighten and draw up. That, combined with James' nearly frantic breath, told her that he still had that particular weak spot.

James bit his lip as Vixy groped his balls, desperately trying to keep his vocalizations in check. Dammit if she didn't remember every single one of his weak spots. Then, when he felt her cool, wet, nose nuzzle up to the fur of his crotch, he realized he couldn't hold on any longer. "Shit-Vixy...fuck...oooohhhh." He tried to warn her, but with a shiver and a gasp, he lost control, his manhood throbbing as he released his pent up load.

Vixy, to her credit, barely flinched as she felt James' hot, sticky seed coat the inside of her muzzle. Her tail wagged behind her, and she quickly swallowed up every drop she could. She didn't want any getting on the floor and providing more evidence of what they'd been doing than the lingering scent of sex would. It took him about ten seconds to stop, and when he did Vixy was just beginning to see a bit of black at the edges of her vision. Every breath she'd taken had been shallow and filled with his scent. She didn't mind. Pulling off of him she gasped and took a few deep, full breaths. A bit of saliva still connected her muzzle with his length, and she reached up to bat it away. "You good?"

James sunk to the floor, a blissful expression on his face. "Oh. Vixy." He held his arms out, beckoning her to come and cuddle with him. Vixy might have done so, if only for a moment, had there not come a sharp knock on the door to the dressing room.

"Come on guys, you've been in there long enough," came the sweet, sensual voice of Meryl Lynn Monroe.

Vixy's eyes widened and she jumped up. "Shit. We'll...I mean...just a minute."

James stood up too, quickly pulling his shorts up and getting his pants on. Vixy dressed just as fast, and then give her lips a quick lick to make sure there wasn't anything sticking to them. When James reached for the doorknob, Vixy reached out and caught his arm. Leaning in she kissed him on the cheek and said, "My place or your place tonight?"

"How about my place? It's right in the middle if downtown."

"Sounds good." Vixy's tail wagged behind her, and she nodded for him to open the door.

When the door swung open they found Meryl standing there, arms crossed under her bosom, looking at them with a triumphant expression. "Come on, we better go before someone notices."

"Yeah," Vixy said, hooking her arm around James'.

The trio made their way out of the department store and back out in the open spaces of the Cornerian Mall. Once they were a safe distance away, Meryl said, "So, how was it?"

"Really good," James said without hesitation. He nuzzled Vixy and added, "I'd forgotten how good she was."

Swatting him on the chest, Vixy said, "You know you'll never have better."

"Mmm. Maybe," James answered, his eyes alight with a teasing glint.

They walked a bit more, and then a thought occurred to Vixy. "Hey Meryl?"

"Yes hon?" The pink feline turned to look at her, ears cupping in her direction.

"How did you know which dressing room we were in?" Vixy asked.

Meryl just smiled enigmatically and skipped ahead a few paces, her tail swishing behind her. When no answer seemed forthcoming, Vixy and James looked at each other and shrugged. Leave it to a feline to be mysterious.

* * *

On the bed in James' apartment, Vixy let out a happy little whimper. "I'm gonna be walking funny tomorrow."

Chuckling, James nuzzled her, the two of them enjoying the view from the open balcony. Moon light streamed in, along with the lights of the city. They could see the silhouettes of people moving around their apartments in the neighboring buildings. "I get that a lot."

"You and that damn zucchini." Vixy shook her head. "I still think it might have grown."

"Maybe. I don't know, when do they stop growing?" James rolled her onto her stomach, planting kisses down her back, which glistened with the lightest sheen of sweat.

"Hell if I know." Vixy wrapped her arms around the soft pillow at the head of the bed. This didn't bring back quite as many memories as she had thought it would. Probably because this time had been different. Back on Papetoon they'd been dodging parents and other adults, trying not to give away the fact that they weren't just busy flight jockeying, but also matress jockeying whenever they could.

James rubbed her flanks. He took a deep breath through his nose, enjoying the musky scent that clung to her. "You smell nice."

"I smell like you," she corrected him.

"I know."

Shaking her head, she said, "I take it back, you have changed."

"How?" James settled down on his back next to her, looking at her across the short divide of covers and sheets.

"You weren't always this confident," she told him, turning her head to look him in the eye. "And you weren't ever this good."

Smiling, James said, "I've gotten a bit more experience since we were together."

"Clearly," Vixy replied. "Who's the lucky lady?"

James shrugged and held up a hand. "Let me see, I shall count the wenches."

Laughing Vixy smacked his hand. "Perv."

"You already called me that today. How about you call me stud instead," James said, his eyes twinkling.

"Hmmm. Okay, that works." Vixy rolled over and settled between his chest and his arm. Her nose twitched when she detected her scent on his body. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed that. In a way it almost made her glad that the breeze coming in from outside was practically nonexistent, there was something she liked about being surrounded by the comingling of their scents. "Tell me about Star Fox."

"Why?" James asked, putting his arm around her.

Putting a hand on his chest, Vixy began to play with the little tuft of soft, white fur on his chest. "Because you always used to talk about it when we were together. So, are you a big hero yet?"

James grimaced. "Turns out, running a mercenary outfit isn't quite as glorious a job as I thought it would be growing up."

Vixy chuckled, biting his shoulder. She wagged her tail when he winced. "What a surprise."

"It's mostly just convoy escort, and patrolling regions that aren't important enough for the Defense Force to worry about, but not unimportant enough to leave unguarded," James explained, letting the hand that had been resting on her hip fall to cup her buttocks. "Have these gotten firmer?"

"Probably," she said, pouting her rear out against his hand. "Meryl's got me doing squats. She says if I don't have a big rack, I need a sexy ass."

"I knew there was something about her that I liked," James said, a look of vulpine mischief on his face. "Though I think your tits are cute."

"Aww. I always knew you were a man who could appreciate itty-bitty-titties," Vixy said. "Now come on, you've got to have one interesting story about your team."

James shrugged, thinking about it. "Well..."

"What? Come on. You must have one. How else could you afford this apartment?" Vixy asked. James' apartment was in one of the most desirable neighborhoods in Corneria City. At fifteen hundred square feet, and near the top of a glittering high rise, Vixy could only imagine what he must be paying in terms of rent. The thing might as well have been a penthouse.

"Oh, that one isn't that interesting," James said, a coy look on his face.

"You better tell me something," Vixy warned, "Or else I might not let you come back for seconds."

That seemed to get her point across. "Well, the guy who owns this building has been looking to put up a new high rise in San Caruso. He was having components and materials shipped there from Macbeth. The convoy got hit by some pirates, and Star Fox was in the area, so we saved the day, and escorted them to their destination. Free of charge."

"Free of charge?" Vixy looked aghast. "What kind of merc are you?"

"One who wants to start getting a good reputation," James argued. This was not the first time he'd had to explain his reasoning for that decision. "I was thinking long term."

"Alright, fair enough mister goody-two-tails." Vixy planted a kiss on his cheek, just to let him know she really did approve.

"Well, turns out he wasn't about to let us go unrewarded," James continued. "He asked me what I wanted in return, and I told him I needed a place to stay on Corneria. Thus, I ended up with chateau McCloud." James swept his arm out to encompass the entire room.

"Damn." Vixy shifted onto his lap, straddling him. "I like a man who knows what he wants. And who has a really nice apartment. I'm a little mad you didn't show me this place awhile ago."

Settling his hands on her hips, James said, "Does that mean you're gonna be bumming around here from now on?"

Looking down at him, Vixy arched an eyebrow. "Would that be a bad thing?"

Chuckling, James made his zucchini known, and answered, "No. Not at all."

Smirking a bit, Vixy reached down between her legs and guided him inside of her. As she slowly took his length she let out a happy little moan, her tongue hanging from the side of her muzzle. Vixy hardly considered herself a size queen, but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't missed James' girth.

"Ahhh." James sighed, squeezing her hips a bit as she finally dropped down all the way. "Oh you have no idea how good that feels."

Starting up her bouncing, Vixy looked down at him with a curious look on her face. "What do you mean?"

For the first time that night, James actually blushed. "I just mean-ah-that most girls can't uh...well, you know."

Vixy had a fair idea, but she wanted to hear it from him. It would amuse her to no end. "What? Come on, say it."

Frowning, James cupped her buttocks again and reached a hand back, then brought it down in a spank. "Don't-mmmm-tease like that."

"Hah!" Vixy nearly squirted at the stinging sensation he left behind. "Nah, come on, you gotta-oooh-tell me."

Growling low in his throat, James straightened up suddenly, flopping Vixy onto her back. She looked up at him with a smirk, and James just rolled his eyes and lined his length back up. "I was gonna say," he slipped in, pressing forward with his maleness until he felt his balls rub against the curve of her rear, brushing the soft, but sodden fur at the base of her tail. "I was going to say that most girls have trouble with me going balls deep."

James' tail swished in the most adorably sheepish away, his ears folding back against his skull. It reminded Vixy of how vulnerable he'd been back on Papetoon, when they were each other's firsts, and Vixy had nearly run away screaming at the sight of the monster bobbing between his legs. Snaking her arms around his neck, Vixy pulled him close and kissed him on the muzzle. When they broke apart, she looked at him and wrapped her legs around his hips to keep him close. "Well then, you can go balls deep in me whenever you need it McCloud."

Grinning like the idiot he was, James kissed her back and started to rock his hips. "Does this mean we're-mmf-together again?"

Bucking her hips back and forth in sync with his, and feeling a little breathless, Vixy shook her head. "Not on your life."

"Heh. Good." James nibbled at her neck. "My zucchini prefers multiple water sources at the moment."

Vixy groaned, both at the divine feeling of having him inside of her, skin against skin, and at his terrible joke. "One more like that and I'll get up and leave."

"Fine." James took her ear between his teeth and tugged. "I thought you liked my dirty jokes though."

Feeling a pleasured sensation building inside of her, Vixy managed to get out through grit teeth, "Not when we're-ooohhh-not in the middle-gawd- _fuck_!" Vixy shuddered and climaxed, her juices dribbling down to soak her already wet tail.

James smiled in triumph as he felt her soak his balls, and let up on his thrusting for a few moments as she shivered and convulsed. "Damn if you don't have a cute O-face."

Moaning softly, Vixy's eyes came back from the back of her head, refocusing on James. "You almost done?"

"Yeah, I guess. For now." James shrugged. "You want me to pull out?"

"I think I might go cross eyed if you don't," she told him. "I'm on the pill, so it's not that. Just, try not to get it in my hair."

Smirking, James slid out of her, then wrapped his own fingers around his maleness. He gave it a few strong pumps, using his other hand to grope at her tiny, adorable breasts, then with a grunt and a curse, he erupted for the third time that day. His volume hadn't diminished much, and he sent several white, hot streaks of his essence to land on her tummy, and one on her chest. With a sigh he flopped down next to her, watching as she dipped a finger into his offering and then licked it clean. He wrapped an arm around her again and pulled her close against his side, not bothered in the least as his cum rubbed into both of their coats, they could shower later. Kissing her sweat drenched hair he cuddled her close, feeling better than he had in months. "I missed you, you know," he whispered.

Vixy smiled and nuzzled him. Her tail thumped against the bed and she whispered back, "I missed you too."

* * *

The clock on the microwave read midnight, and Vixy didn't care. Standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but her fur, she nibbled on some munchies from the fridge. James was watching her from across the hall, smiling at the way the light from the refrigerator cast shadows in several appealing places. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?" Vixy responded, popping a few more morsels she'd found into her muzzle, chewing in contentment.

"What have you been doing all these years? Got anyone special I should be worried about?" James joined her in the kitchen. He took a beer from the fridge, flicking the cap off with his thumb. "Impressed?" he asked, looking hopeful.

"Not really," Vixy answered.

"Awww, for real?" James felt a bit disappointed, but it passed. He could think of other ways to impress her for the rest of the night. _I haven't felt this insatiable in a long time. And that's saying something._

"Really." Closing the fridge, she hopped up on the granite counter. She pushed aside a dirty dish, not surprised to find that James hadn't been keeping up with his dishes. _Not that I'm any better,_ she thought.

"You know, I do have to eat there," James pointed out, leaning his back against the fridge. The cool surface felt good in the warm summer night.

"What? You don't wash the counter? Chill out." Vixy shook her head. "Or is that woman's work?" she teased.

Pushing off the fridge, James put his arms around her and tossed her over his shoulder, looking appreciatively at her back end. "Come on, I have a couch for sitting."

"Oh, big strong man, carrying a woman over his shoulder." Vixy smiled and looked down at his backside, it was almost as good a view as the one from the balcony.

"Man has strong arms," James said, taking on a caveman inflection. "Woman light as feather."

They made it to the couch, at which point James unceremoniously dumped her onto it, before flopping down himself. He let one leg hang off the edge, while the other rested on top of the couch. Vixy eyed the sight between his legs hungrily. "That is an obnoxious pose."

Grinning, James said, "Which naturally means you approve. Let's not forget who flashed the entire senior class one year."

Blushing, Vixy answered, "That was an accident. I swear."

"Sure. Sure." James kept grinning.

"Just drink your stupid beer." Vixy crossed her arms and looked away, though her eyes kept darting back to him for a second or two at a time. James continued showing himself off. "And to answer your question, no I'm not cheating on a boyfriend with you or anything. Trust me, you aren't that appealing."

"You wound me," James replied, though inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. He really should have asked and made sure she was single. "Something tells me you don't want for bedmates though."

"What makes you think that?" Vixy turned around on the couch, settling her feet on his stomach. She wiggled her toes at him. James took them in his hands and started massaging them. "Mm. That feels good. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Vixen masseuse," James said. "I met her a few months ago."

"Did you get a happy ending?"

"Oh yes. And then some," James told her, looking proud of himself. "But you haven't told me if you're out getting around."

Tipping her head back as James rubbed her toes, Vixy said, "Yeah. I fuck around. Why?"

"Just wondering," James said. "So, I told you a good story about my life. You got any?"

Vixy thought about it for a moment. "I'm not exactly flying in a mercenary unit, but I can think of one or two things. What do you want to know?"

"How did you get to be a test pilot for Space Dynamics?" James asked.

"Mm. That's a long story. Should I just give you the cliff notes?"

"Sure. And then..."

"You seriously want more?" Vixy looked at him with an expression that wasn't shock so much as approval.

"Don't you?"

"Alright, cliff notes." Vixy thought for a moment, then said, "Well, long story short, Aero Academy has a deal with Space Dynamics and other companies that are looking for talent. I technically didn't meet the requirements for experience level but..."

"They thought you had the raw talent." James finished for her.

"How did you know?"

Smiling, James sat up and pulled her to him. "Because I always knew you had it in you."

Putting her arms around his neck, Vixy kissed him. "Thanks. You're a good friend, you know that?"

"I do." James rubbed noses with her. "You always told me so."

* * *

Sunlight streamed into the room, waking James a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Rolling over in bed he looked at Vixy. He couldn't remember ever seeing her in bed with him the morning after. Not when they'd been teenagers sneaking quickies in broom closets or the locker room in some crop duster hangar. _I think the most intimate we ever got was in the back of a car._

Intimate. That's what last night had been. Hell, even their time in the dressing room had felt closer than anything they'd done before. _Well, okay, maybe that less so, but still, this was different._ More than amazing sex, it had been a wonderful night of reconnecting, on both an emotional and a physical level. James felt like he'd caught up with her more in that one night than he had in all the weeks since they'd found each other again. He didn't feel any differently towards her, at least not in terms of a romantic connection, but he did feel as if the night had brought them closer together as friends. Already he could tell that their time together would be placed in his box of happiest memories.

James laid there for a while and watched her sleep. He smiled at the way her ears flicked, and how her leg would kick every now and then. She must have been dreaming. He wondered what she might be dreaming about. He was about to lean over and wake her gently when the damned alarm went off. He'd forgotten about it, distracted by Vixy's sleeping form.

Vixy's eyes shot wide open and she sat bolt upright in bed. Looking around, murder in her eyes, she found the alarm clock. Diving past James she took it, yanked the power cord out, and then threw it to the ground. "Dammit!"

"What?" James looked at her, almost afraid to see what she might do next. "Wake you up in the middle of a good dream?"  
"Yes." Vixy sighed, her shoulders drooping. "It was the last sim run of the day, and I was about to vape you for the win."

James chuckled. "My my, someone is a bit hypercompetitive."

"Ya think?" Vixy shook her head, her hair flying in all directions. "Ugh, this is a mess," she said, running her fingers through it. "How are you this morning?"

"Good," he said. "You're cute when you're asleep."

"Thanks," she replied, swinging her legs out of bed. "So, you gonna make me breakfast?"

"Sure." James hopped out of bed and threw on some clothes. Vixy did the same. "What would you like?"

"Oh, something light. Eggs probably." Vixy looked out the open balcony door. "Man, you got a nice view."

"Why don't you go out and enjoy it, I'll bring breakfast to you," James offered.

Smiling, Vixy replied, "I'd like that."

"Breakfast will be ready in ten," James promised, watching as she walked out onto the balcony and took a seat in one of the chairs. At least things weren't awkward. He'd had plenty of morning's after that were like that. Oh Jamie and Clara weren't ever like that, nor were his other regulars, but there were plenty of one night stands that ended in an awkward "okay, that happened," followed by a quick escape.

Heading out to the kitchen James set about cracking some eggs and toasting some toast. He flipped on the holovision while he cooked, noting that the current news story was about some sort of new pirate group harassing the shipping lanes. "...Etcher has struck in several sectors, evading capture by Defense Force pickets each and every time..." James muted the audio. He didn't want to think about pirates or raiders this morning. It wasn't his problem, and until Pepper or someone else decided to make it his problem, he wasn't going to stress about it.

Looking past the holovision at the rest of the living room James caught sight of one of the easy chairs. It was lying on its back, having been overturned last night when James had been holding Vixy in the air, bouncing her up and down in an indescribably pleasurable manner, before he'd miscalculated one of the bounces and promptly sent them both tumbling over end over end. He couldn't help but laugh at the memory. They'd been a little surprised at first, then they'd collapsed into a giggly mess and finished in a nice, easy spoon.

After he finished scrambling the eggs he pulled a carton of orange juice from the fridge. He poured two glasses, then got out some plates for the food. Setting everything on a tray, he picked it up and headed back to the bedroom balcony. He found Vixy staring out at the city, and tracked her gaze to a passing jetstream. "Passenger jet," he guessed.

"Cargo hauler," Vixy replied. "You can tell from the angle, it's coming in from out-atmosphere."

Setting the tray down on the little table between the two chairs, James checked the angle of descent. "You're right," he admitted. "Damn, you are good."

"Got out of Aero at the top of my class," Vixy said. "And not just because of my good looks."

"How was Aero?" James asked, taking a sip of his orange juice.

Taking her plate from the tray, Vixy started eating. "It was quite the experience," Vixy said. "A lot like being at the Academy, but without the drills and uniforms."

"I was always jealous you got to go," James admitted.

"I know." Vixy gobbled up the last of her eggs. She'd always been a fast eater. And she was absolutely ravenous this morning. "We trained on just about everything. Including Switch-Wings, actually."

"Really?" James' ears perked with interest. "I didn't realize they trained in combat craft."

"You have to be selected for it, and then you have to agree to volunteer," Vixy informed him. "Aero doesn't just have agreements with Space Dynamics. They also have agreements with groups like Ares and other big private military corporations. I met a lot of assholes bucking for a job at those organizations."

"Were all of them assholes?" James eyed her suspiciously. It sounded like there might have been some history behind that remark.

"Yeah. All." Vixy shook her head. "I swear, if they were in the Defense Force they'd have been drummed out of the service. You know the type, always showing off, always looking for a fight...and I am describing myself now that I think about it."

They both laughed at that. "Did you ever think about joining Ares or one of the other corps?"

Vixy shook her head, setting down her plate and picking up her orange juice. "Not really. Although..."

"What?" James asked, leaning forward in his chair, ears cupped towards her.

Vixy sighed. "Ever since I got behind the stick of the Arwing, it's gotten me thinking. Back at Aero I never dreamed I'd get to be a test pilot for Space Dynamics. And I certainly never thought I'd end up being recruited for something like the Arwing project. But..."

"But?"

"I don't like test piloting as much as I thought I would." Vixy sighed. "I just don't feel like I'm making any sort of difference. And I feel like, if something went wrong, if I got killed doing it, which we both know is a possibility," James nodded. Test piloting experimental craft was a dangerous job. "I just feel like that would be such a pointless death. I don't want a pointless death."

They were quiet for a few minutes. James didn't want to jump on her like he was trying to get a wishy-washy enlisted man to re-up for another four years, but he had a feeling where she was going with this. _Vixy on Star Fox? Is that even possible? Why not?_ "You could join Star Fox."

Vixy looked at him, and an eager expression on her face. Her tail wagged behind her, brushing against the floor of the balcony. "Could I?"

James smiled, wagging his own tail. "I don't see why not. It'd probably take some time to scrounge up another Switch-Wing, and we'd need to talk it over with Peppy and Archer, but I'm game."

"You're offering me a job," Vixy's tail wagged as she said it.

Adopting a gruff look and tone, James replied, "It wouldn't nice to you. Doesn't pay much."

"But it'd be worth it. James, I know I sound like a kit again but, we could change the world." James could tell the thought, the idea of it, was sending a wave of energy coursing through her veins that she'd never felt before. It had done the same to him when he and Peppy had decided to make his dream a reality.

Smiling at her enthusiasm, James said, "Don't quit your job just yet. I'd still like to be flying against you in the Space Dynamics simulators. Think of it as an extended interview."

Vixy grinned from ear to pointed ear. "I'm gonna kick your ass so hard, you'll beg to have me on the team."

Taking her hands in his, James said, "Vixy, we're friends. You'll never have to beg me for anything."

She put her hands over his and looked into his beautiful, bottomless, emerald eyes. "It'll be just like old times James, they'll never stop us."

With all that said, they went back to their breakfast, or what was left of it, and watched the sky above Corneria City.


	6. Villains, Demons, and Angry Vixens

**Chapter Six**

 _ **Villains, Demons, and Angry Vixens**_

Darius Vesper rarely slept. Over the years various doctors had all diagnosed him as an incurable insomniac. No treatment or therapy had ever been able to cure him of this particular malady. It had confounded the medical profession, even sleep focused neuroscientists. As Darius walked the steamy, sweltering streets of Eladard City, he let one of his favorite memories replay in his mind. He had arrived in Eladard City just over a week ago, been provided with clandestine employment and living quarters by Edgar Marcross, the most powerful and influential man on the planet, and had just been settling in when a call came from Edgar's personal physician. As part of his new work, Vesper would need to submit to a full physical examination. Darius had agreed and set the appointment, five days from the day of the call. Darius Vesper did not sleep once in those five days.

When he arrived at the doctor's office, he was quickly ushered in. Asked if he had any preexisting conditions, Darius had said off handedly that he often had trouble sleeping. The doctor had nodded, noted down the word "insomnia" and asked him how many hours of sleep he had gotten since arriving on Eladard. Vesper almost smiled as he said, "None."

The doctor, a native reptile, had blinked his nicating membranes in disbelief. He then went on to ask Darius if he had been feeling any ill effects. Auditory or visual hallucinations? No. Difficulty focusing? No. Lack of energy? Not in the slightest. Then came the inevitable request to perform a routine brain scan. Not a difficult procedure with the technology available these days. Darius of course agreed, though he warned the doctor he wouldn't find anything.

Using the latest in Marcross Medical Instruments miniaturized scanning equipment, the doctor had scanned Darius's brain, looking for any chemical imbalances that might be the cause, or be brought on by lack of sleep. He fully expected the scanner to show him a neurological mess. Instead, he found nothing. Every scan, every indicator, came back reading normal. Incredulous to say the least, the doctor had sent a call for a nurse to bring him a second device, convinced the one he had in his hand was malfunctioning. The doctor apologized, and Darius, enjoying himself, just curled his short feline muzzle in a patient smile and assured the doctor he understood.

The replacement scanner arrived. The doctor repeated his scans. Then he repeated them again. And then once more, just to be certain. All of them came back identical. Despite no sleep for five days, Darius Vesper's brain chemistry was completely, utterly, normal. The doctor then asked how long Darius usually went without sleeping. Maintaining that same, patient smile, Darius informed him, "On average, I go about nine days without sleep."

The doctor and nurse exchanged perplexed glances. "On average? How long is the longest you've gone?" the doctor asked.

His smile becoming a hint more sinister, Darius said, "The longest? About a month. Give or take a day."

The nurse, who was holding the medical scanner the doctor had originally thought to be defective, dropped it in shock. It clattered to the floor, and Darius couldn't help but grin. Just as he had expected. Eladardians, despite being on a technological level on par, and in some cases perhaps even exceeding, that of much of the galaxy, were still a deeply superstitious lot. On Eladard, there was a legend of a demon, Kilik-Thulu, who lived underground in the catacombs beneath what was now Eladard City, among the bones and shed epidermal layers of Eladard's ancient inhabitants. Kilik-Thulu, the legend went, walked the catacombs night and day, plotting and scheming his return to the surface world. He would sleep once in a month, either the last day of one month, or the first day of the next. Then, when he awoke, he would return to his wanderings, spinning his web of plots and deceit, and devouring any who ventured down into the undercity as sustenance for his ambition.

Sliding off the examination couch, Darius had reached down and picked up the scanner, handing it back to the nurse. She took it, scaled hands shaking and cool to the touch. "If we're done here?" he asked, glancing at the doctor.

"Y-yes," he said, visibly shaken by Darius's casual, and seemingly unintentional allusion. "I believe I have all that I need."

"Very good. A pleasure to meet you both," Darius replied, and with that the feline left the office, grinning ear to pointed ear as the door shut behind him. Yes, he would like Eladard quite a bit.

Of course, Darius noted to himself, he knew he wasn't Kilik-Thulu. But, the coincidental commonalities between himself and the legendary demon were enough that he found it useful to subtly call attention to them every now and then. He had indeed once gone an entire month without sleeping, and he suspected when he needed to next he would be more than capable of accomplishing that same feat. He was also in the business of manipulation, planning, and had connections throughout Lylat's underworld. He had also worked extensively outside of the Lylat System. He had plotted and executed the downfall of politicians, Great Houses, corporate enterprises, and criminal syndicates on Harcothia Secunda, Argelius, and a number of other, less notable worlds. He had negotiated secret agreements between powers such as the Anglar Empire, the Amanoi Hegemony, and even, on occasion, the Lylat Federation. He had done all of this, and at the same time managed not to make a name for himself. Darius Vesper had no desire for fame and glory. Fame and glory were the enemies of true power. Much better to be known to a few very important, and very vulnerable people, than a multitude of useless nothings.

Beyond his sleeplessness and penchant for scheming and negotiating, Darius had one other thing in common with Kilik-Thulu. He liked to walk. He found he did his best thinking while in motion. Putting one foot in front of the other helped focus a mind so full of information and ideas that, left undisciplined, he likely wouldn't have been able to tell his ass from his elbow. For the moment he did his walking on the surface, roaming the raised sidewalks of Eladard City, glancing at the holoscreens and advertisements, and taking note of everyone who walked by, filing away their behaviors and attitudes for his ever increasing database on the population he now found himself living among.

If one walked far enough on Eladard, one would, without fail, eventually find yourself in an industrial zone. Eladard prided itself on being the planet where things were made, though it had had more than its share of economic ups and down. Darius strolled by a sign marked "Industrial Sector K-7", and into an old, abandoned factory zone. Glancing around at the shuttered plants and broken window glass, Darius assessed the location's age. Five, perhaps six decades since it had been abandoned, buried in this clearing between skyscrapers. Given that timeframe, Darius suspected it had probably gone belly up during the height of the Third Great Recession, a period of economic contraction that had brought many a company to its knees.

Darius stopped at an old, rusted elevator door. Like the rest of this place, it hadn't been used in decades. It still relied on cables to descend, rather than using anti-gravity technology. Above it read a simple word, in the native Eladardian of course, "Underground." Painted on the doors itself were three other words, "Do not use." Darius walked up to the door. Extending his claws, he slashed them slowly through the dry, chipping paint. Stepping away he admired his handiwork for a moment, then he let out a soft chuckle. Yes, this would be perfect. He made a note to have the elevator tested, repaired, and put under surveillance. _How does the legend go? Ah yes. Kilik-Thulu, Plotter, Schemer, and Demon incarnate. He roams in the dark beneath the City, and all those who go below shall be caught in his web, to fall victim to his unceasing machinations._

Darius nodded to himself, his tail flicking in satisfaction. Then, with another throaty chuckle, he turned around and headed back down the street, muttering to himself, "The drama."

* * *

 _ **Five Months Later...**_

Eladard had a certain brutal beauty to it. The harsh climate had given rise to the hardiest of reptilian species. Scientists had identified and named all the various species native to Eladard: lizards, chameleons, so on and so forth. But Eladardians, true Eladardians, made no distinction. Edgar Marcross certainly did not. All Eladardians were the same, equals. But some, like Edgar, were far more equal than others.

From the top of the Marcross Space Technologies headquarters, a massive, glittering high rise in the middle of Eladard City, Edgar Marcross, great grandson of the founder of his company, watched as a riverboat paddled its way down the Sul Tiss, the longest river on Eladard. The river was so long, in fact, that it had been the means by which the various disparate tribes of reptiles that were native to Eladard had first discovered each other. They had traveled along the faintly sulfurous waters, always searching for an area just a bit less harsh to inhabit. It was over these less harsh areas, areas not constantly at risk of being flooded with lava, or obliterated by the harsh, freezing northern winds, that the first wars had been fought, and afterwards where the first cities had been built.

Beneath the modern exterior of Eladard City ran hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles of catacombs. An entire metropolis was buried beneath the skyscrapers and apartment buildings of the Eladard Republic's capital. Very few people ventured there, and it was believed among the lower classes that ghosts, spirits, and restless demons chose to reside there, eager to consume any who were foolish enough to trespass in their domain.

The riverboat docked and began unloading passengers. Edgar noted the make and model of the ship, a design of one of his company's innumerable subsidiaries. Marcross Space Technologies, through its subsidiary companies, had long ago monopolized manufacturing and technology on Eladard, helped along by the hopelessly corrupt Republic government. Sometimes Edgar wondered if he should do away with the politicians once and for all, and establish Eladard as a corporate world, with a corporate government, with all businesses and all employment controlled by his monopoly. It had been done on Argelius, so it was possible. Something told him, however, that the Lylat Federation would not take kindly to his doing that. And besides, governments had their uses, and Edgar had no desire to control everything the people of Eladard did, just what they spent their money on.

Thoughts of the Federation served to sour his mood, and he rose from his high backed leather chair, crossing over to a small table with a bottle and two glasses sitting there. Pouring himself a glass of Liquid Fire, a drink few could stomach, Edgar knocked it back in a single swallow. He savored the burning sensation it caused, washing away thoughts of the Federation and their sanctions.

Twenty years ago Eladard had colonized the primitive desert world of Titania. Inhabited by a race of felines colloquially known as "sand cats", Titania's natives had been centuries behind everyone else in the Lylat System technologically. They were, however, sitting on a treasure trove of energy conductive crystals, invaluable in the realm of advanced technology. The Marcross Consortium, of which Marcross Space Technologies was the preeminent member, had quietly requested that Eladard establish a colony on the world, and like magic a colony had appeared. Now, twenty years later, the colony had grown considerably, displacing the sand cat population, and drafting them into menial labor positions in the planet's expanding network of mines, refineries, and factories.

The Federation, of course, denounced Eladard's actions, and imposed a series of economic sanctions that, to this day, continued to adversely affect both Marcross Space Technologies, and the rest of the Marcross Consortium. And, to add insult to injury, as Marcross Space Technologies, commonly referred to simply as MST, had suffered sanction induced setbacks, a small, previously unknown Cornerian firm called Space Dynamics had, since it's founding a few short years ago, begun to eclipse MST as the Lylat System's preeminent producer of spacecraft and advanced space technologies. _If something isn't done soon, their blasted Arwing and its G-diffuser will render the I-diffuser, my family's invention, obsolete in a decade or two._

Edgar poured himself another drink and returned to his desk. He tapped a button on his intercom, signaling his secretary to let his last appointment in.

The door to his office opened and a youngish feline walked in. "Darius, so good to see you," Edgar said, standing up and motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Darius Vesper shut the door and nodded, returning the smile. Having come highly recommended from a fellow businessman on Argelius, Darius Vesper was now the head of MST's secret, and illegal, corporate espionage division. Tall and thin, Darius didn't look like much, but Edgar hadn't hired him for brawn. No, he needed someone with intellect to match his own, and a way of thinking that put success and the mission before any other concerns. Darius was just the man he needed to help get MST back on top, and Space Dynamics relegated to the second rate manufacturing and design firm that it was. "Mr. Marcross, you asked to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Please, sit down. Drink?" Edgar motioned to the bottle of Liquid Fire. Darius shook his head. "Of course. You don't drink, my apologies."

"No apology necessary, sir," Darius replied, taking a seat and setting his briefcase on the ground. "What can I do for you?"

Sitting down behind his desk Edgar folded his hands in front of him. "I read the report your division sent to me, about our Space Dynamics data breach. I think it's time we take our espionage up a level."

"How so?" Darius inclined his head slightly, looking interested.

"First, you're certain our breach wasn't detected?" If the breach had been detected, which the report had assured him that it hadn't been, then this plan would likely be moot. Therefore he wanted Darius's assurances in person.

"One hundred percent certain, yes sir," Darius assured him. "We were careful and specific, my division's hackers didn't leave a trace of themselves behind. And I must say, the breach yielded some very...interesting information."

"Excellent. Excellent." Edgar was beginning to feel more confident all the time. "Then I think it's time we launch Operation: Our Wing."

For a moment, the calculating look in Darius's eyes faltered, replaced by a burning eagerness for the task ahead. "Yes sir."

Leaning forward a bit more, Edgar said, "As per operation protocol, you are in full command of this mission. I won't be looking over your shoulder. But I want that experimental fighter, and I want that G-diffuser intact. Clear?"

"Naturally." Darius gave him a reassuring look, the mask of his professionalism returning full force. "Is there anything else?"

"No."

"Then if you'll permit me sir, I'd like to get to work immediately," Darius said, rising from his chair.

Edgar smiled, showing his sharp, reptilian teeth. He stood and held out his hand. Darius clasped his cold scales in his warm fur, and Edgar said, "Don't screw this up."

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir," Darius answered.

The feline left the room, and Edgar relaxed back into his chair. Everything was proceeding as planned.

* * *

The alarm clock by James's bed went off, blaring its intolerable, scintillating tone into every nook and cranny of the bedroom. Lying in bed, the sheets a tangled mess, James opened first one eye, then the next. With an angry grunt he grabbed the clock, shut it off, and then slammed it back onto the bedside stand. Turning over in bed he grimaced as a sunbeam caught him square across the face. "Oh. Ow. Yep, there go my corneas. Nice knowin' yah."

Sitting up James rested his neck against the headboard and looked around the room. Not too bad. The purchase of a new hamper a couple of weeks ago had really done wonders, even if it was in danger of overflowing at the moment. Looking beside him he noted the emptiness of the other half of his bed. He'd have to do something about that at some point before tonight.

Swinging his legs out of bed James ran a hand across the bridge of his muzzle, then started rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes. He and the team didn't have any combat trials today. In fact, his team wouldn't be doing combat trials anytime in the foreseeable future. In an act typical of budgetary oversight committees, the Federation Council had decided that continuing to pay a mercenary outfit to perform combat trials beyond these last five months was a superfluous expense that neither Colonel Pepper nor Argus Phoenix could continue to justify. It just happened to coincide with the Arwing moving to live fire trials, which would have meant a rather significant price hike for his team's continued participation. "Jack offs," James muttered.

Standing up he stretched his arms, then looked down at himself. His fur was matted in some places from sleep, and it didn't quite have the luster he preferred, meaning a shower was needed. He was also sporting an absolutely obscene bit of morning wood. "It has been awhile," James muttered to himself. Not for lack of trying, his luck had just been bad the past week.

Heading for the bathroom he checked to make sure he had a towel and then started the water going in the shower. He had a moment of indecision about whether to relax with a hot shower, or just shock his system and get the day going with a cold one. Considering that he had nothing better to do this morning he let the water warm up, then stepped inside.

His tail wagged happily behind him as the warm spray of water soothed some of the bed aches from his back. Leaning a shoulder against the wall James breathed in the steam as it rose in thick clouds around him. Looking south again he chuckled and wrapped a hand around his length. "Long as it's here. Heh, long."

James closed his eyes and let his mind take him somewhere else. He flipped through his more regular fantasies. Vixen threesome, lioness orgy, and then settled on something a bit more vanilla. Even as his hand continued stroking his length, behind James's eyelids a ghost of Vixy, nude and smiling, pressed her body up against his, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as she brushed his fingers aside to replace them with her own. He knew from experience how soft and skilled those fingers were, and before long James found himself panting, his tongue hanging from his muzzle as Ghost Vixy brought him right to the edge, and then stopped.

"Ugh. Dammit, you tease," he whispered.

"You like that about me, don't you?" Ghost Vixy said, tugging on his right ear.

"I hate it," he said, though his tone told her that he meant just the opposite.

Ghost Vixy giggled and started stroking again, her other hand reaching down to cup his balls. She rolled the heavy orbs around in her fingers and palms, tugging on them even as they drew up closer to his body, ready to vent their pent up essence. Nuzzling her nose into the crook of his neck, Ghost Vixy whispered, "Come on, cum for me James."

With a long, low moan James let himself go, surrendering to the pleasing rush of climax. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and when he opened them he couldn't help but sigh at the lack of Actual Vixy in the shower with him. He hadn't seen her in a couple of days, and after that fantasy he suddenly found himself in need of a little familiar company.

Turning into the water he scrubbed himself down, using some of the shampoo that Clara and Jamie had bought for him the last time he'd visited. A smirk came to his muzzle at the thought of the two women. "Regular threesomes. Goddamn, if only Peppy knew. He'd have a stroke."

Rinsing himself off he stood under the water for a moment, enjoying the heat, before twisting the knob and shutting it off. Stepping out into the bathroom he flicked on the fan to start dehumidifying the place, then wrapped a towel around his midsection. With nothing to do he was happy to let himself air dry.

James headed out to his kitchen to start the morning coffee. Opening the cabinet above he looked through his selection, and settled on Nova, for a hot blast of caffeine the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. Slotting the pre-ground cup into the machine he smiled as the life giving substance began to fill his mug.

Grabbing the remote off of the counter James flipped on the holovision and glanced at the scrolling headers. Nothing very interesting. There had been some recent unrest on Titania, hardly newsworthy anymore at this point. Races for two hotly contested Cornerian Assembly seats had recently tightened, causing a firestorm of new pundit predictions that James couldn't care less about. And it appeared that Space Dynamics' stock prices had just risen, coming within spitting distance of Marcross Space Technologies, their most valuable competitor. "Figures they'd have a great day as soon as they stop paying me."

Taking his now full coffee cup James sat down on the couch and started flipping through the channels, trying to find something else to watch. He finally settled on a cartoon about a fox in denial about a rumor he had robotic legs. Before he could get too invested in it however the intercom by his door buzzed. Setting his mug on the coffee table, James got up and ambled over to it. Hitting the answer button he said, "Yeah?"

" _James, it's Vixy, I need to talk to you."_

"Sure. Come on up." James unlocked the door and left it open a crack, then headed back to the couch. He briefly considered running into the bedroom to put on something other than a towel, but then decided that Vixy wouldn't mind.

A few moments later the door opened all the way, then slammed shut. James turned to see Vixy standing there, her eyes wild and her fists clenching and unclenching. "You know that job you offered me? I need it. Now."

"What happened?" James had a feeling he knew. They'd been talking over the idea of her joining Star Fox, and both Peppy and Archer were game. But he and Vixy had decided to wait and see how things went with the live fire tests for the Arwing, which both of them had assumed Vixy would be piloting in. In fact, now that the Arwing had arrived at the testing grounds in Sector X, Vixy was supposed to have met with Argus Phoenix about whether or not she would be assigned as lead test pilot for the upcoming trials.

"I got fired." Vixy appeared near apoplexy. James prayed for the safety of his lamps.

"How?" James hadn't thought that would happen this soon. He and Peppy had agreed, privately, that it would probably happen at some point, but they'd both expected that she'd quit of her own accord long before then.

"Someone on the board of investors for Space Dynamics got ahold of my record, and all the blots on it from before I started doing the simulators," Vixy explained through clenched teeth. "Argus said he tried to argue with them, but ultimately...well, I guess I was just more trouble than I was worth."

James didn't know what to say, so he went with, "You gonna be okay?"

At that Vixy let out a scream she'd been containing all morning, kicked a chair, then beat her fists against it. James wisely stayed out of range. After a moment, when it appeared that she'd regained control of herself, James said, "Vixy, it's not that bad."

Her eyes widened and her gaze spat venom at him. "Not. That. BAD? Fuck you! Do you know how fucking hard I worked to get this job? I went to Aero! My parents paid through the NOSE for me to go. And now I get fired for...for fucking what? A few unorthodox piloting maneuvers? Bull. _SHIT_."

James's ears folded back. He knew he was in for the temper tantrum of the century. He'd been through several in the past. Rather than keep talking, which likely would have made things worse, he just crossed his legs and did his best not to be too large a target.

"It was Niles. I know it was," Vixy said, taking off her shoes. James ducked behind the couch as she threw the first one. "He fucking hated me. The little prick. I was always the best pilot on his watch, and he couldn't fucking stand it. And he really couldn't stand it when I got chosen for the simulators over that bitch bimbo he was screwing! Ohhhh, he didn't want it to happen again. I just fucking know he sent that report to those fucking weenies on the board of investors. FUCK!" The second shoe followed the first, and James decided that that was enough.

Standing up and walking over to her, he grabbed her arms and said, "Stop it. Stop it right now."

Vixy's lips curled in a snarl. "Fuck off James."

Shaking his head he squeezed her shoulder a bit harder before looking into her eyes. Speaking calmly, he said, "Vixy, how old are you? Did you honestly think you'd get away with breaking all those regulations forever? Vixy, you signed a contract saying you wouldn't break the rules. But, if you're gonna go back on your word like that, there isn't much anyone can do to keep the consequences from catching up with you."

"Oh, so you're on their side?" Vixy raged, breaking out of his grip. "Where the fuck do you get off telling me to follow the rules? You hated the rules so much you started your own mercenary team just so you could make your own."

Shrugging his shoulders and acknowledging her point, James replied, "Right. So what are you doing standing around throwing a fit about losing a job you were going to quit anyway? It doesn't make any sense."

"Don't talk to me about making sense, I'm allowed to be angry," Vixy spat, crossing her arms.

"Fine. Be angry. But at least put that energy into something worthwhile, would you?" James answered.

Vixy looked him up and down, noticing for the first time he was only wearing a towel. Arching an eyebrow in a patrician gesture that would have gotten plenty of funny looks back home on Papetoon, Vixy asked him, "James? Why are you only wearing a towel?"

James flicked his ears and told her, "Air drying."

"Oh." A little smile started creeping along Vixy's muzzle. "I didn't know people wore towels to air dry."

Sensing an opportunity to lighten the mood and turn that little smile into a big grin, James undid the knot holding the towel up. The cloth wrapping fluttered to the ground and James struck a pose, thrusting his middle out a bit, and putting a hand behind his head. "That better?"

Vixy laughed then, her tail wagging behind her. "You're a beast."

"I thought you liked beasts," James riposted, tail flicking behind him.

"Oh piss off." Vixy laughed again and walked by him, reaching out to tickle his balls. She smirked when James made a little hissing intake of breath at her touch. "What? Been fantasizing about me?"

James's face exploded into a blush. "Uhhhh...sorta?"

"Naughty boy," Vixy replied, settling down on the couch and stretching out. She took his coffee mug and drank from it without hesitation. "Wanna tell me all about it?"

"It wasn't that interesting," James mumbled, taking a seat next to her and fighting her off when she tried to wiggle her feet and get him to give her a free massage. "Just, you know, guy stuff."

Rolling her eyes Vixy sat up and snuggled up to him. James wrapped an arm around her and the two just sat here, enjoying each other's company, even if James smelled a bit like wet fur. Because of the persistent dampness from the shower, James didn't notice at first when Vixy began to cry. He did notice though when he heard soft little sobs, and felt her clutching him a bit more tightly. "Hey. Hey, you okay?"

Vixy took in a shaky breath and said, "No. I worked so hard for that job, and now I fucked it up."

Rather than disagree with her, James held her and let her work out the sobs. He kissed her soft white hair, breathing in the scent of her spicy shampoo and softer perfume. Once the sobs began to abate James stood up, whispering that he'd be right back. He walked into the bedroom and pulled on some underwear and a pair of shorts, trying to be decent. Then he grabbed a blanket and returned to the living room couch. He wrapped it around her, then made a quick stop in the kitchen for some canine safe chocolate. He handed it to her, and then sat down as she munched on it, her tail wagging even as tears continued to fall.

"What do I tell them?" Vixy whispered as the last of the chocolate disappeared.

"Who?" James wrapped his arms around her again.

"My parents." Vixy settled her muzzle into the crook of his neck. "They worked really hard to send me to Aero, to see me doing what I loved, but now I'm just a failure. All because of me. I could've played by the rules the whole time, but I didn't. I was stupid. And..." she looked up at him, a sheepish look in her eyes, "I kept thinking of something you and I always used to say back on Papetoon."

Smiling, James said, "What? Rules are for other people? I remember that."

Vixy laughed a bit, but it was a bitter, sad sound. "Yeah. Guess I shoulda realized I'm not a teenager anymore."

"It's alright," James assured her, rubbing her arm through the blanket. "Some people never realize it."

"That'd be you, right?" Vixy looked up at him, a little glimmer of humor returning to her glistening eyes.

"Yep. That'd be me," James replied, wagging his tail. He breathed a silent sigh of relief, it looked like the damage here was far from irreparable.

"What do I do now?" Vixy sat up a little straighter but stayed cuddled close to him.

"Well," James said, "I wasn't planning on telling you this until later. Maybe over dinner or something but..."

"Huh?" Vixy wiped away the last of her tears, and then blushed when she noticed the trail of snot she'd left on her arm as well. "I might need to use your shower."

"It's fine," James told her, even if part of his brain immediately felt nervous about the prospect considering his earlier escapade in there. "But before you do, I have a present to give you."

"What?"

"Wait here." James stood up and walked back to his room. Once there he grabbed his phone, opened up a saved image, and walked back to the couch. Handing her the device, he said, "What do you think?"

Vixy stared at it, and James held his breath. The screen displayed a Switch-Wing with her name stenciled on the fuselage. "James?"

Grinning and kissing her on the cheek, he said, "It's all yours. Whenever you want it."

The moment the words reached her ears Vixy's mood changed. She jumped up with glee into his waiting arms. Hugging him she said, "Thank you."

Holding her close, and trying not to focus on the fact that his hands were both grabbing her ass, James said, "You're welcome. And welcome to Star Fox."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then their muzzles met in a deep, impassioned kiss. James felt his lower half waking up to the opportunity, and Vixy's scent telegraphed her willingness. Turning around James sat himself down on the couch, taking Vixy with him. Vixy was just pulling off her shirt when James's phone began ringing. James, eyes closed as Vixy came in for another kiss, opened one and looked at the caller I.D. "Dammit."

Vixy pulled away from him, looking none too pleased. "You cannot be serious."

"It's Peppy," James told her, reaching for the cell phone. It had to be important. The hare almost never called, preferring to text with James, something about wanting the vulpine's promises in writing.

"I don't care if it's the goddamn Speaker of the Assembly," Vixy groused, even as she slid out of his lap to sit down next to him. "You answer that and you're gonna have to give me thirty minutes of quality oral," Vixy warned.

"Make it forty and it's a deal," James shot back, answering the call. At Vixy's mildly surprised look he shook his head and muttered, "How did you think that was a threat?" Vixy just crossed her arms and tried not to smile. "Peppy, what's up?"

The words Peppy said next chilled James to the bone, and after replying that he'd be down to Space Dynamics as soon as possible he hung up. Vixy looked at him worriedly, and asked, "What's going on?"

"You're not gonna believe this," James replied, still trying to wrap his head around it himself.

"What?" she pressed, having sensed that the opportunity for fornication had passed.

"The Arwing. It's been stolen."

* * *

A/N: *psst* See? There's a plot.

For those of you wondering, when chapter seven releases, we'll be in completely uncharted waters. So strap in, buckle down, and read every word. It's gonna be a helluva ride.

(Also, technically it's still Friday for me, so this update is super technically not late)

Vixy: *pbbbt*

Shut up.

Vixy: *pbbbbbbbbbt*

I guess I'll just end that here...

Vixy: *pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt*


	7. Implications and O'Donnells

A/N: We have entered uncharted territory. There's nothing familiar from here on out. It's all new. So please, if you've been skimming...stop, and make sure you read each word. And, before we get to this chapter, I want to say that, yes, there are gay characters in this story. And yes, they're allowed to get freaky, just like the straight characters. If you've got a problem with that, keep it to yourself. I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with any ignorant, childish, homophobia. Which, naturally, means I'll probably get at least a couple anon reviews full of it.

That being said, enjoy this chapter, and pay attention, because the plot is moving forward. Things are only going to get more interesting from here.

-fUrfurFURfuRfUrFuR

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

 _ **Implications and O'Donnells**_

Darius had learned early on in his life that information was power. Holding knowledge, owning knowledge, simply knowing knowledge, could put you leaps and bounds ahead of everyone else in the universe. After his team at MST had hacked into the Space Dynamics mainframe, Darius had spent hours pouring over the information for himself, before sending it up the foodchain to Edgar Marcross himself. As he did that he had carefully eliminated references to a project he had found particularly interesting. After all, Marcross was only interested in the Arwing and the G-diffuser, which directly threatened his bottom line. _If only he had a bit more ambition,_ Darius thought to himself.

Sitting in his apartment, Darius contemplated the information displayed on his tablet. The Interdimensional Warp Transfer Gate had piqued Darius' interest for one simple reason: it was a secret. When the data breach had made off with its information and the decryption process had begun, this particular file had proven the most difficult to crack open. Darius had eventually taken a stab at it himself, using protocols he had invented. After hours of effort and a string of muttered expletives he had broken through the encryption, and what he had found had been truly astonishing.

Space Dynamics, in conjunction with several top-secret government research labs, were working on a way to open portals through space time that would allow for near instantaneous travel anywhere in the galaxy. The benefits of such a game changing technology were obvious, but somehow Darius felt as if the implications of the word "interdimensional" were far greater than anyone, even the researchers themselves, assumed.

Walking out onto his balcony and looking out on Eladard City, Darius craned his neck back to gaze at the few tiny stars that were visible through the city lights. Most of them were other planets in Lylat, with Corneria and Fichina the most prominent. But beyond them, in the depths of space, Darius had heard whispered tales of something far greater and more powerful than anything in Lylat or the cluster of inhabited systems she shared this part of the galaxy with. He had heard tales of beings with extraordinary powers that made Cerinian telepathy look like a mere parlor trick. Beings who, if the stories were true, and they were often fifth hand accounts, could travel between dimensions and planes of existence as easily as he might submerge himself in a pool of water.

Breathing the industrial stench of Eladard in through his nose broke him out of his reverie. Such things were of no consequence to him at this very moment, but they intrigued him nonetheless. And the thought of interdimensional travel fascinated him. Alone he stood no chance of ever understanding it, and without the schematics he had no hope of ever achieving it. He would need help in this. _The schematics first. Once I have them a few whispered words in the right ears and I'll have a horde of scientists clambering to get a taste of what I possess._

Walking back into his apartment he shut the balcony door. The noise of traffic and nightlife faded away and Darius sat down in front of his personal communication device. Not the one Edgar Marcross had provided him with of course, that one was bugged beyond all belief. Tapping a series of buttons he called up a list of intermediaries that he made frequent use of. Ah, yes, Chuck Bradson, an expert in the criminal underworld. If anyone could find him the right person to pull off a theft of the Gate schematics it was him. Sending a query his way, Darius settled in to wait.

* * *

Life on Macbeth was tough. It didn't matter how rich or how poor, or how well connected you were, living on a planet that barely managed to be habitable above ground for half the day half the year was a challenge. It strained people to the limit, putting them under the pressure of both having to survive against a star that was close enough to be a problem, but far enough away that the radiation wouldn't kill you. Most of the time. In some regions, where Macbeth's over ambitious industrialization had depleted the planetary ozone layer, surface living during perihelion periods was next to impossible.

To combat this, much of Macbethan civilization had been moved underground. A few large cities remained visible on the surface, protected by massive heat and radiation blocking domes, but beneath even these massive population centers, the living spaces stretched far underground in a network of interconnected tunnels lit with artificial illumination. These tunnels had proved inviting to species such as rabbits and others burrowers, and thus Macbeth's immigrant population lopsidedly favored tunneling species both native to Lylat and from other star systems.

Macbeth's capital city, Numanchester, sat under one of the protective domes. Left untinted for the night cycle, the people enjoying Numanchester's modest but still developing nightlife could look up and enjoy the stars, with the dome's nanite infused material sharpening their contrast to combat the light pollution inherent to any large city. For surface dwellers and tourists alike that little bit of showmanship had proven one of the few benefits of living or vacationing on Macbeth which, in general, tended to be a bleak and unimpressive industrial and mining colony on a partially irradiated, volcanic planet, with little else to recommend it.

One of the few marks of beauty that Macbeth's earliest settlers had discovered were several large, thriving cave ecosystems. Subsisting on the light filtering in from their entrances, lush, green forests with their own micro-climates had sprung up, defying the weighted odds that most life faced on the planet. Unfortunately, the early settlers had been less than careful about building in and utilizing the cave ecosystems, and several had died out entirely before the Federation Council had passed an amendment to the Unique Ecosystems Act that added Macbeth's cave systems to the list of protected environments. That decision remained a topic of blistering debate on Macbeth, dividing much of the world's politics between those who wanted to open up the cave ecosystems to exploitation and the tourist industry, and those who believed that the cost of losing those ecosystems would far outweigh any potential benefits. Opponents of the Act argued that Macbeth's largely industrial economy needed to diversify, and a tourist trade would be an effective means of doing that. Proponents of the Act however pointed out that any such benefits would be temporary, as the delicacy of the cave ecosystems would inevitably lead to their collapse if the Act were repealed.

Of course, for people like Lupus O'Donnell, all of this meant absolutely bunk. Having grown up in one of the poorest industrial districts, Lupus had clambered his way to a steady means of living through thieving and infiltration, selling his particular skills to the highest bidder. In the Numanchester underworld, his capabilities, both at small time pickpocketing, and massive, complex heists had made him a legend. He hadn't done it alone though.

Wearing a black turtleneck sweater, the ultimate in thieving fashion, and carrying a small, silenced hold out blaster, Lupus stopped at the vault door of the Central Jewel Depository of the Numanchester Industrial Zone, more commonly known as the Jewel Heap. Heavily guarded and tightly secured, this heist had proven one of the most challenging he and his three person team had ever undertaken. The reward: a million credits and a ticket off of Macbeth for each of them. And with that money, Lupus could finally begin to realize his dreams of an underworld empire.

"Sarah?" Lupus looked at his twin sister, Sarah O'Donnell, and then nodded towards the vault door. "You're up. Jax and I will cover you."

"Right. You won't need to though," Sarah whispered, conscious of the fact that even though they had mapped out the live and robotic patrols since taking on the job, there was always the chance someone would order a random patrol, or an overly ambitious vault guard might decide to do one on his own initiative.

"If you do this right," Jax, the big, strapping lion that Lupus constantly had to remind himself not to be distracted by muttered.

Sarah flicked her short, scruffy lupine tail behind her. "I always do this right," she assured him.

Jax and Lupus shared a look, and for the briefest part of an instant Lupus found himself lost in the big, blue irises. _Focus O'Donnell. We'll celebrate afterward._

Taking up positions on either side of the corridor, Jax and Lupus kept their ears perked for the clank of robotic feet or the sound of automated treads, while using their noses to sample the recycled air for any hint of an organic guard. Behind them Sarah set to work on the lock, considering it for a moment before pulling out her wide array of lock picking tools.

Sarah had learned lockpicking at a young age. Her and Lupus' father hadn't exactly been a model parent. In fact he'd been a drunken monster who, on a regular basis, locked them in a closet when he went out so he wouldn't have to hire a babysitter. Where that idea came from Sarah had never figured out, but it had inspired her to start using everything from paper clips to hair pins to let her and Lupus escape. _Even if he used to take the belt to us when he found us running around. The bastard._

Of course picking a closet door lock and breaking into an ultra secure vault were two entirely different things. For one thing, the lock on this door didn't have a mechanical bone in its body, relying instead on an electronic system that had no doubt been sold to the Jewel Heap with the promise of possessing uncrackable encryption. Upon viewing the encryption that had begun scrolling across the screen of her PDA, Sarah couldn't help but snort. Jewel Heap had gotten lax. This encryption cipher had been cracked five days ago, but the lock had yet to be updated, meaning that unlocking it would be child's play. Glancing behind her at her brother and his boyfriend, she said, "This'll only take a minute."

Lupus' tail wagged at the news and he gave Jax the "I told you so" look he loved to use on the burly lion. Jax just grunted and said, "Lucky."

Grin splitting his muzzle, Lupus replied, "I like lucky."

Sixty seconds later and the vault door unlocked with a click and began to swing open. Lupus turned around and started walking forward, but Sarah held out an arm to stop him. "Wait one." Lupus nodded, then watched as she tapped another button on her PDA. "There we go."

"More lasers?" Jax asked over his shoulder.

"Yep, a whole web crisscrossing the room. I got them though," Sarah replied, tossing her violet colored hair. Lupus considered asking her where she'd gotten the dye, but then decided against it. His white hair looked good already. "Not in the visible spectrum either."

Jax grunted in irritation, and Lupus said, "That's the third set. They've got these things all over the place."

Sarah shrugged. "I guess they worry more about the lasers than their encryption. Sloppy, but not too sloppy. Should we go in?"

"Don't mind if I do." Lupus didn't usually find himself impressed by much, but the contents of this vault were enough to make him stop and gawk for a second.

Diamonds sparkled in every corner of the room, in small piles of uncut gems, and in suitcases of cut, refined stones. _We need fifty million. But there must be billions worth inside this vault alone._

"Beautiful," Sarah murmured as she stopped next to her brother.

"What do you think Jax?" Lupus asked. "Think any of these would make a good engagement ring?"

"Maybe. But let's just grab 'em and get out of here.. And when that time comes," Jax added from his position outside the vault, "I promise to get you something much more tasteful." He looked over his shoulder to wink at the lupine, and in that split second of inattention what Lupus would have called an unaccounted for variable rounded the corner and tackled Jax to the ground. A sickening crack filled the vault room as a pair of fists hit Jax in the muzzle, and the lion grunted as blood spattered against his thick, golden mane.

Lupus spun around, his blaster in the air. His eyes widened in shock when he saw who it was. "Manny?"

Looking up from Jax's bloody muzzle, the four armed, feline-lupine hybrid's eyes widened at the sight of Lupus. "Lupus? The hell is your lispy muzzle doing here?"

"Get off my boyfriend and I'll tell you," Lupus growled, keeping his blaster trained on Manny, even though the wolf knew he'd never fire while it risked hitting Jax. Manny, with his three jaws daring to lecture him about a lisp, didn't need to know that though.

"Right. Right." Manny stood up and offered an arm to Jax. Jax just growled and stood up on his own. "Sorry about that, I thought you were a guard."

Sarah guffawed. "You never were subtle, were you?"

Manny, a Harcot immigrant from Harcothia Secunda outside the Lylat System shrugged his extra large shoulders. "I've never needed to be. And the man who hired me for this job said he wanted something brute force."

"For a robbery?" Jax wiped his nose with his hand, it came away bloody.

"Burglary dear," Lupus corrected gently, just to be a bitch. He was angry at Jax for letting his guard down, but as soon as he'd gotten his dig in he let it go. He knew if he'd been Jax he might have done the same thing, and Jax would be kicking himself for the next few weeks over the slip up. "Who hired you Manny?"

"Some guy named Chuck Bradson. Middleman if it were my guess. I never saw his face, voice was always distorted," Manny explained, looking around a little furtively. "We should probably grab what we came for and get out of here."

Lupus nodded and glanced at Sarah. Sarah nodded back and started checking the cases. They were each marked with their total value, a fact for which Lupus silently thanked the accountant staff of the Jewel Heap. While Sarah picked out their prize, Lupus walked up to Manny and said, "I'll split the reward with you, for your trouble. After all, you could've tried to kill us just then. Say, sixty-forty, your favor?"

"Really?" Manny looked stunned. He was so stunned he didn't feel the cold muzzle of Lupus' blaster against his gut until it was too late. Without a sound Lupus pulled the trigger, pumping a pair of rounds into the Harcot's heart, right where a Lylatian's stomach would have been. Manny didn't even cry out in pain, he just looked stunned as he collapsed to the ground.

Lupus stared down at him, his eyes cold as he said, "Nope." He swiped the air in front of his face as smoke from the cauterized wound began to drift up. He turned and looked at Jax, the lion staring at him in a combination of surprise and mild horror. "Had to be done. He'd have shot us in the back the moment he got the chance. That, and he made my big, hunky boyfriend look like a bitch. He was dead the moment he hurt you. You'd have done the same for me."

Jax nodded, his tail flicking behind him, and said softly, "Without a second thought."

"If we're done being mushy we should probably get out of here." Sarah told them. "I don't want to take the risk that that blaster shot set off an alarm I didn't know about."

"Right. Let's go." Lupus turned on his heel and headed back out into the corridor, leaving behind Manny's still smoking body, and looking forward to collecting his biggest payday yet.

* * *

One thing that Lupus did like about Macbeth was that if you wanted to disappear you had almost limitless options. After becoming such a successful thief he had set up a series of safe houses that could be used to lay low after a job. He felt confident that his team hadn't left any traces of themselves back at the Jewel Heap, other than poor Manny's body. Even so, Manny was a well known criminal here in Numanchester, and it wouldn't be that much of a leap to say that he'd been killed by a duplicitous partner. It also wouldn't be much of a leap to say that there would be about a dozen security guards at the Heap claiming that they'd killed him in valiant defense of the diamond vault while conducting a random patrol on their own initiative. _That's what you get when you give bonuses to people for doing what you hired them for. They get greedy,_ Lupus thought as he lay contentedly in Jax's arms.

"What are you thinking about?" Jax rumbled, kissing the fur on the back of Lupus' neck.

Tail wagging behind him, Lupus turned over to look his beautiful lion in the eye. Stroking his fingers through the feline's mane, he said, "Nothing. Just that you're all sweaty."

"So are you," Jax responded, purring deep in his chest as Lupus scratched behind his ears.

"True." Lupus smiled and kissed Jax on the nose. One of his hands traveled down the lion's chiseled, glistening flanks, coming to rest on his hip. "Sore?"

"Will be in the morning. Just a little." Jax chuckled, biting softly on Lupus' shoulder. "I'm used to you now though."

Lupus hummed in appreciation as Jax's big, veiny biceps squeezed him affectionately. He'd known Jax all his life. They'd been friends as children. In fact, he'd been Lupus' only friend. Everyone else had been too terrified of Lupus' father to come near either him or Sarah. Everyone except Jax that is. Lupus could still remember crying into Jax's arms as an eight year old after father O'Donnell had taken a belt to him, leaving big red streaks on his back and behind. Jax had been just as terrified, but he'd stayed there, trembling and holding onto Lupus as Sarah's own screaming and cries filtered in from the bedroom. Jax had stayed even as they got older, and those screams and cries from Sarah became even more terrifying. _Bastard._

"You okay?"

Lupus realized he'd started growling, his eyes narrowing to slits. He relaxed, opening his eyes and focusing on Jax's sky blue eyes. "Fine. Just...remembering."

"He can't hurt you or Sarah now," Jax whispered. "I promise."

Lupus chuckled, remembering the night that his father had finally gone too far, overestimating just how much he could get away with once Lupus and Sarah weren't scared little pups anymore. "I take pride in knowing the Macbethan police barely even bothered investigating that particular homicide."

"I know you do. And sometimes you scare the crap outta me," Jax admitted. Lupus gave him a hurt look. Kissing the wolf on the cheek Jax went on, "Still, I'll be with you forever. I promise that too."

"Sweet thing." Lupus kissed Jax back, passion driving him forward until the two found themselves in the midst of another love making session. Lupus gasped as he felt Jax's muzzle wrapping around his length, the lion's head bobbing up and down between his legs. Lupus had never had anyone but Jax, and he never wanted to. Jax was his everything. He would do anything for the lion, even kill, as he'd proven again today. He drew strength from the knowledge that Jax would do the same for him. "Oh sweet thing," Lupus said again, resting his hands on Jax's head, taking the hair of his mane between his fingers and giving it light little tugs. Lupus' tongue hung from his muzzle, and he felt fresh sweat on his body. He whined happily as he felt Jax's big hands cupping his sac, rolling the orbs around in his palms, tugging on the flesh with his fingers.

For a few precious minutes Lupus found himself in heaven. His body felt electrified as he looked up and saw Jax reaching over for the box of condoms and lube they'd left on the bed. Just as Lupus enjoyed taking Jax, Jax enjoyed taking him. No top or bottom here, they both happily fulfilled any role the other needed them to. Lupus lifted his legs and shuffled a bit on the bed, little more than a lumpy mattress on the floor of an old warehouse office, baring his rear to his love. Jax smiled and squeezed a healthy dose of lube onto the condom, then reached down to do the same to Lupus' entrance. The wolf sucked in a breath at the feeling of the cold liquid against him, but continued looking at the lion encouragingly. Jax lined himself up and said, "Ready?" Lupus nodded. "Alright. Tell me if it hurts."

Jax pressed himself in, and Lupus relaxed and allowed him entrance. Jax looked down at him with love sparkling in his eyes, and Lupus reached up to put his hands on the golden feline's brawny shoulders. Jax began thrusting, slowly and gently, taking his time and doing whatever he could to make it as pleasurable for the two of them as he could. Lupus' tail beat against the mattress, and Jax's swished behind him, their scent filling the room as they danced the primal dance of love. Jax leaned down, wrapping his arms around Lupus and holding him close, his cold pink nose pressed against Lupus' neck as he whispered, "I love you."

Lupus could have cried, and like always he almost did. He controlled himself though, since he knew it would only worry Jax. Holding his lion close he whispered back, "I love you too, sweet thing."

Not long after this Jax's breath became shallow and fast, and his thrusts became deeper and more powerful. Lupus groaned, feeling a bit of pain, but not really caring. He would gladly suffer pain a thousand times worse to make Jax feel a simple, animal pleasure. Moments later Jax moaned and shuddered, just managing to hilt himself in Lupus, which made Lupus cry out and his eyes widen. He felt Jax throb inside of him, and he kissed the lion's shoulder, then nuzzled his neck. Once Jax had caught his breath Lupus asked, "Good for you?"

Jax straightened up and slid his length out. He smiled at Lupus and said, "Best." He then noticed the throbbing length between Lupus' legs. "Didn't finish, huh?"

Lupus shook his head and, as Jax efficiently disposed of the spent condom, said, "Do a sexy pose for me."

Grin spreading across his face Jax struck a pose, arms behind his head, half hard length bobbing between his legs, his body gleaming in the room's artificial light. Lupus grinned back and wrapped a hand around his length. He was close already, and a few strong, tight pumps later he left a trail of white leading from his crotch to his pecs. "Ahhhh..." Lupus flopped back on the bed, making no effort to cover himself. It was just Jax, with Sarah on guard outside. And, honestly, he didn't care if Sarah caught him like this. After the hell they'd been through together, they hid nothing from one another. "You make my life worth living Jax, you know that?"

Settling down on the mattress next to his lover, Jax took Lupus' hand in his and said, "I know hon. I know."

* * *

The stairs leading up the small warehouse office creaked each time Sarah set her foot down, no matter how lightly she tried to step. As annoying as it could be it also made it impossible for anyone to sneak up to the room she, Jax, and Lupus used as a hiding spot. It helped that no legitimate business had been done in Warehouse District 1041 in decades, with the firm that had owned the storage spaces having gone belly up during the Third Great Recession. Sarah remembered how her father used to rant and rave about that event, as if he'd lived it, and not just been born towards the end of it. It had always been his excuse for why he couldn't get a job, and why he instead spent most of his time drinking, carousing, and making life a living hell for her and her brother. _Did his father treat him like he treated us? Probably. Does it matter though?_

Reaching the top of the stairs Sarah knocked once, waited three seconds, and then knocked three times in a row. The door opened a crack, and Jax saw her and smiled. He opened the door the rest of the way, and Sarah looked at the blaster in his hand with approval. Jax wouldn't be getting caught off guard again anytime soon. When she walked in her nose twitched and her face screwed up in disgust. "It smells like a fucking whore house in here."

Lupus, splayed naked on the mattress, just looked dreamy and said, "It smells of Jax and his heavenly musk sis."

Sarah rolled her eyes and went for the window, walking past the case full of diamonds, scuffed and disguised so it now looked no different from a million other traveling cases. She was about to unlatch the window and let some fresh air in when she felt a fist clamp around her arm. Jax shook his head at her. "Too risky. Someone could crawl in."

"Fair point," Sarah allowed. "But I'd rather not sleep in this...miasma of male pheromones."

Jax blushed a bit and walked over to an old ventilator that looked like it hadn't been used since the place closed down. "I don't think it works sweetie," Lupus warned him, sitting up, but still making no attempt at modesty.

"I'm sure it does," Jax replied. "We'll leave it on for just a few minutes, to clear the air. No one's likely to hear it that way."

Sarah shrugged. She didn't bother mentioning that there wouldn't be anyone around to hear it that they needed to worry about. The Numanchester Police Department avoided this area like the plague, calling it too far gone to waste valuable resources trying to patrol. That, and Sarah had heard that the big crime lords had paid off the right people to turn it into a safe zone for clandestine, underworld activity.

Jax leaned over the ventilator, looking for the switch, and Sarah rolled her eyes at the way her brother leered. _You're incorrigible,_ she thought. "A ha!" Jax exclaimed. There was a clicking noise as he flipped the switch and...nothing happened. "Oh come on." Jax put his face near the grill, trying to see what was wrong, and that's when it happened. The ventilator coughed, sputtered, and then sprayed a plume of dust into Jax's face. "Fuck!"

Lupus howled with laughter, and even Sarah couldn't help but crack a smile. Jax straightened up, kicked the thing with his foot, and then started hacking. Between those hacks though, Sarah caught the lion's deep, full belly laugh. They'd all been through enough today, and the days before, that this sort of thing wasn't just funny, it was hilarious.

Once he'd gotten the dust clear of his throat and shaken out his mane the best he could, Jax looked at Sarah and said, "Maybe we could risk opening the window for a little while."

"Not a bad idea. I got my cams set up, so we can monitor the entrances from here. They're hidden so no one should find them but..."

Lupus stopped laughing and sat up. "What is it? Trouble?"

"There's an...exchange, going on a few blocks away. Out of earshot, but not sight. It looks like it might take awhile too. So, best to stay inside until dawn," Sarah explained. Lupus looked at her curiously, and she said, "You don't want to know."

"Ah." His whole body seemed to slump and coil at the same time, fighting itself over whether to collapse into a pool of depression, or start swinging. Lupus knew what she meant. A drug deal she would've specified, or a weapons trade but...if he didn't want to know, it meant only one thing. "Anyone we know?"

"Lupus..." Sarah looked at him imploringly, she knew how dangerous this conversation could be.

"Just...not kids right?" Lupus' expression was strained.

"No. Not kids." Sarah hated herself as she lied through her teeth. There had been kids. Young kids. But if she let Lupus know that he'd grab a gun, charge out of the warehouse, and end up getting himself killed. Sarah saw Jax look in her direction, and she flicked an ear at him, her silent signal that she was lying, and that if Jax said anything she'd cut his balls off. Jax nodded and went back to cleaning his mane, even if he didn't look all that happy.

Lupus laid back on the mattress, looking even less happy with life than he usually did. Behind that flamboyant, fiery personality, and behind that stone cold ability to kill and murder whenever he deemed it necessary, her brother felt. And he felt far too much for his own good. Reaching for his clothes Lupus stood up and started dressing, making Sarah tense in response. Spotting it, Lupus gave her a reassuring head shake and said, "Just getting dressed. It's cold."

Sarah glanced at Jax, sitting on the edge of the mattress, naked as the day he was born, and looking warm and comfortable. She sighed and walked over to Lupus. She put an arm around him and whispered, "I know it's hard. I know it could have been us. But please, you know that some fights just can't be fought. Not yet."

"I know," Lupus replied, a bit louder and more forcefully than he had intended. "I just...I'll always remember what he said to you. And what he said to me."

Sarah saw Jax stiffen. He'd been there once for that. Sarah held her brother a little closer. "I remember."

Shaking his head, tail stiff behind him, Lupus flopped back down on the mattress and said gruffly, or as gruffly as he could manage with that lisp of his, "I need some sleep. One of you needs to be watching the cam. Can I trust you guys to do that?"

"Yes." Sarah walked over to sit against the wall, the mattress was the only furniture in the room. She grabbed her phone and hooked into the cam. The video played through in grainy, static filled images, but she could see more than enough to keep an eye on the various entrances. A shadow covered her a few minutes later and she looked up to see Jax looming. He didn't mean to loom, but when you were that big you just, well, loomed. "Yeah?"

Jax bent down in front of her and spoke softly, "Are you gonna be okay?"

Sarah's heart melted at the concern, the love in his voice. For a moment she wanted to tell him to run away. To get out of the life she and her brother were building for themselves. He deserved so much better, this big, loyal cat. Then she glanced over at Lupus and remembered how devastated he would be if he lost Jax. Turning back to Jax she took his hand and said, "I'll be fine. Worry about him. I can take care of myself."

Jax nodded, squeezing her hand in his. "I know you can. He loves you. So do I. You, me, and him? We're family. Got that?"

Deep inside her, in a place her father had never been able to touch, Sarah felt her heart ache and melt for the lion. If she and her brother had any chance of becoming decent people, she knew it was because of Jax. Sweet, loyal Jax. Smiling she pushed him away and said, "Go keep my brother warm. And please, put some clothes on. I'd rather not stare at your ass all night."

"Alright." Jax laughed, patting her on the shoulder, and tossing that mane that, even filled with old ventilator dust, managed to look full and lustrous.

Sarah watched as he dressed and then settled onto the mattress with Lupus. Her brother, even in his sleep, curled right up to the lion. Satisfied that everything would be alright for now she turned back to watching the cam, holding back the cries and screams as she watched all the little girls that could have been her, and the little boys that could have been Lupus. All the while she heard her father's drunken, spittle filled voice as he said, day after day, as if trying to convince even himself, _A case of liquor for the two of ya...not even worth that._


	8. Rocks, Oaths, and Anonymous Calls

**Chapter Eight**

 _ **Rocks, Oaths, and Anonymous Calls**_

"Meteo? What is it doing there?" James eyed Pepper across the desk, not sure what to make of this news. "Come to think of it, how do we know it's there?"

Standing just behind Pepper, looking out at the evening sunset over the Corneria City bay, Argus Phoenix twitched his tail and said, "There's a transponder on it. Or, more accurately, a radiolytic isotope that is baked into the molecular structure of the Arwing prototype. It is completely unique and easily traced. I designed the method myself."

Argus's looked proud of himself in his window reflection. Next to James Vixy fidgeted and looked uneasy. "Radiolytic?" she finally asked.

Smiling, Argus adjusted his glasses and said, "Don't worry, it's completely harmless. It won't impact fertility in males or females, and it won't make you glow in the dark. Trust me, it's just a very secure tracking method, nothing more."

James glanced at Vixy, worrying not for the first time since they'd been called in here that she might do or say something stupid and cost them the opportunity of a lifetime. She didn't though, returning to her stoically silent attitude, her eyes shooting death glares at Argus's back. "Alright. Do we have an exact location?"

Leaning forward Pepper tapped a series of buttons on his keyboard. A moment later a hologram shimmered into existence of a vaguely potato shaped asteroid, with what looked like several small cities on it. "This is BR-558, a mining colony owned by Crespo Mining Industries." Pepper manipulated the controls again, and the hologram zoomed into one of the smaller settlements. "This is Beta Colony, on the surface. Small, out of the way, and poor, it just barely meets its mineral quota each month. Because of this it receives only the bare minimum of basic services from Crespo, and has become a hotbed for black market activity."

"If it's such a hot bed why doesn't anyone go in and clean it up?" Archer asked, looking confused.

James grimaced and answered, "Probably because someone at Crespo is profiting off of it."

"I don't follow." Archer regarded James.

Looking his Cornerian friend in the eye, James resisted the urge to use the epithet most colonials like him used to refer to native born Cornerians: "saint", a play on the fact that Cornerians, with their paradiscal existence, tended to have a childlike naivete about the rest of the galaxy. It wasn't fair though. How could he blame Archer for not understanding? The lynx hadn't been off Corneria much before he hooked up with Star Fox, and even before that he'd had only the remotest of interest in politics and private business. James thanked Peppy for forcing him to listen to long, serious lectures on the workings of the world outside of piloting and looking for a bedmate. "Because if someone high up enough in Crespo is making money off of illegal activity, and it benefits the company, which it probably does in terms of off the books profits for the executives, then I can guarantee they have an army of lobbyists telling important Council members and the President it isn't worth the trouble of cleaning up."

Pepper frowned and said, "Actually, Crespo's Security Division has been working on several plans to move in and clean up the area for us. It is technically a corporate asset, and so we don't have jurisdiction over it. Though..." Pepper trailed off, not wanting to continue.

"Lemme guess," Peppy chimed in, his short muzzle curling sardonically, "They've been dragging their heels."

The hound dog glanced away, and all James could think was: _Saint._ "If it's at Beta Colony it won't be there long," James said. "We should move now."

Argus grunted and his tail wagged a bit. Turning away from the window he said, "I'll forward you all of the information regarding both the Arwing, and the isotope. Needless to say I'd like you to avoid sharing the nature of the transponder with anyone. It's a company secret."

Before anyone could shake hands and end the meeting, James added, "Of course. But first, the fee."

Pepper sighed, but Argus didn't even blink. "I'll be handling that. Name your price."

James and Peppy shared a glance, and the hare discreetly made an upward motion with his fingers. James looked back at Argus and named what he thought would be an absolutely outrageous figure. Once again the fennec didn't so much as blink as he said, "Done. As soon as you get the Arwing back to me it'll be in your account."

"That uh..." James sat there in shock, trying to remember how to breathe.

Picking up on James' incapacity, Peppy took over in a heartbeat. "That'll be just fine. We won't let you down sir."

The meeting wrapped up, with information being sent to Star Fox's PDA's. Hands were shaken, and then James walked out the door, his eyes a little glassy. The door clicked shut behind them, and a soft voice cleared its throat. James looked over in the direction of Pepper's secretary and smiled as she made a discreet little "call me" gesture where only he would be able to see it. That broke him out of his funk. James was about to strike up a conversation when he felt Peppy tap him on the shoulder. "Huh?"

Peppy handed him his PDA and stylus and said, "Sign it."

"Sure." James scrolled down to the area marked with an "X" and scrawled his name. "What is it?"

"Thumbprint." Peppy pointed to a square next to the keyboard.

"Oh. Right." James pressed his thumb and the PDA hummed then beeped. "So, what am I signing here?"

Taking the PDA and locking in the signature and thumbprint, Peppy looked at James, a smile making his mustache curl upward. "Oath of celibacy."

"What?!" James looked rapidly between Peppy and Pepper's secretary. "What did you say?" The secretary, a female rabbit, put her hands up to her muzzle, trying not to giggle.

Scrolling to the top of the document, Peppy told him, "By signing this and submitting to a thumbscan you have agreed to forgo all sexual relations with people of any gender and species for the duration of this mission. It is legally binding, so break it and I will sue your ass in court."

James whined and looked pleadingly at Peppy. "Why?"

"Because I found the form online and I couldn't resist." Peppy chuckled. "Consider this my way of teaching you to look at everything you sign from now on."

"Huuuuh." James just looked on the verge of panicking. Archer patted him on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring while also hiding the fact that his sides were shaking.

"Hey Pep," Vixy piped up, speaking for the first time since the meeting.

"Yeah?" Peppy looked at her, curious.

"Where do I sign?"

"What do you mean?" Peppy looked confused.

"The oath of a celibacy. Where do I sign?" Vixy clarified.

"Why would you need to sign?" Peppy asked, surprise in his voice.

Vixy's temper flared and she spat out, "What? Because I'm a woman? I sleep around at least as much as fuckstick over there." Vixy made a vague gesture in James's direction.

Peppy rolled his eyes and handed her the PDA and stylus. "Append your signature."

"Yay!" Vixy's tail wagged, her anger evaporating in an instant. She signed, making a show of it, then scanned her thumb before handing it back to him. "Alright. Masturbation is okay, right?" Everyone in the room stared at her. Peppy looked pained, Archer looked amused, and James, bless him, looked like he was having fun imagining what that probably looked like. "What? Girl's gotta have some outlet." Vixy noticed the secretary nod emphatically even as she typed away on her computer, and Vixy threw her a wink.

Peppy just sighed and ran a hand down his face. James laughed and motioned for everyone to follow him, "Come on Star Fox, let's go get that Arwing so we can get paid. And, you know, laid."

Following James out of the anteroom Peppy muttered, "Had to be clever Pep, had to be clever." James was never going to let him live this down, was he?

The train rushed down a subterranean tunnel in BR-558's Alpha Colony. Alpha Colony, established by Crespo Mining Industries fourteen years ago, was the largest and most prosperous of the mining colonies on this asteroid. Located in the northern hemisphere, Alpha Colony was home to about fifty-thousand miners and their families. It had everything from a nightlife to shopping malls, there was even a movie theater that actually managed to stay current with the latest hits from Corneria and the rest of Lylat.

Sitting in the fast moving car, Shea Etcher glanced around at the locals. They were better dressed than the people from Beta Colony, and they also looked better fed and healthier. Beta's cuisine was limited to a few low end restaurants and the corporate cafeterias. The difference was striking since she didn't make it out to Alpha Colony all that much. Part of her agreement with the local VP of Crespo was that she keep her activities confined to Beta Colony, a lost cause mining area that Crespo kept open only because it was lining a few executive pockets. Ordinarily Shea, a snow leopard native to Fichina, would have kept to her end of the bargain, but this job she'd been working on was valuable enough that she felt willing to take the risk.

The train car came to a stop and the doors opened. Shea muscled her way out, elbowing aside a woman angling for the same exit she was. The woman gave her a dirty look, and Shea, noting that she was a busty looking thirty something, through back a leer. The woman blushed and Shea smirked, moving on through the crowd.

Holo-signs on the walls of the train station advertised everything from locally sourced jewelry to cave spas. Why anyone would want to go to a spa in an asteroid cave baffled Shea, but then most of the people here, even if they were living in profitable, well looked after Alpha Colony, couldn't afford to leave. It was the same story every time Crespo or another mining firm set up shop on one of the larger asteroids in Meteo. The commercials and corporate spokespeople went around the slums on Fortuna, the small towns on Papetoon, and anywhere else people weren't living a Cornerian life, and sold the locals on the opportunity to start a new life out in the beyond. Free housing, business opportunities, and good paying jobs. Oh, and the job was in outer space! Did we mention that? Out there, on the frontier, independant, away from government regulation and taxes. Yes, that's right, no taxes on any of your income. Isn't that something? Worked every time.

As Shea walked up the stairs and out onto the street, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket. What the good people at Crespo and Other Tail Holes Incorporated didn't tell the would be colonists was that their contracts mandated they stay and work on the asteroid for ten years at a minimum, and that all that tax free income? Well, you'll be using it for your miner's insurance, your life insurance, your health insurance, and your housing insurance, provided to you by Crespo Mining Industries Insurance Division or, if you were on some other rock, Boning You Until You Can't Work Anymore Partnership. And, whatever you had left over after that, you'd be spending at your local businesses, supporting the rest of your community here on the good ol' space rock. Of course, all those businesses were owned by Crespo or Whoever Else Wants to be a Con Man Organization, and all that money you spent there went right back to the corporation. Shea shook her head.

It may have been a dismal state of affairs for the people who lived and worked here, but when it came down to it Shea really couldn't complain. Crespo had given her a place to base her pirating operations, given her access to warehouses to stash her stolen goods while they waited for sale, and even let her use the repair and refueling depots for her ships, and the med wards for her crew. Helped that most of her crew were locals these days. Beta Colony residents with nothing to lose, and who had eagerly signed on for the grunt work with Shea's organization. Not many pilots to be had, but then she had other sources for those.

Alpha Colony glittered and pulsed around her as she took a side street off the main drag. Towers climbed into the air with the corporate logo blazing on them in holographic form. They reached towards the transparent atmospheric shield, a combination of transparent aluminum, and nanite infused polymers. It was similar to the technology used on Macbeth for their radiation domes.

Things got darker as she went off the side street and into an alleyway. Shea lowered her head and hunched her shoulders, spotting the security camera at the other end of the alley. The only pesky thing about being on a corporate colony rather than a Federation world was that the privacy laws out here were non-existent. To that end, Crespo employed the very latest in facial recognition technology for its surveillance devices, something that the ever democratic Federation, and those saintly Cornerians would never have allowed. To them it smacked of a dystopian police state, to the Crespo Security Forces, it was just the most efficient way to identify anyone associated with local unionization efforts.

Stopping at a door with a neon sign over it that read, simply, "Bar", she walked inside. The door shut behind her, and she breathed in deep. The scent of cheap booze, cheap cigarettes, and even cheaper people filled the air. She liked that smell. Simple. Honest. Who cared if it was rank and unpleasant? So was most of the universe. At least in this place they weren't putting a veneer over anything. No, here people didn't ask questions, and they weren't coy about what they wanted. To get drunk and forget about their problems in an alcohol induced state of oblivion. Shea could empathize.

Striding confidently through the haze Shea sat down at one of the far booths, deep in the shadows. A waiter came up to her but she waved him away. He shrugged and then dodged the groping hand of a miner who looked about forty years older than him. _Men. Always wanting something younger,_ she thought ruefully to herself.

She sat there for a few minutes, watching the crowd. She didn't recognize anyone, and she counted that as a good thing. She wanted anonymity here tonight. She also didn't spot anyone who looked like Crespo Security. And certainly no one high ranking enough in the company to know about her, and the terms of her deal. Confident that she had adequately policed the room, Shea moved her right hand to the center of the table, then moved it another three inches to the right. Once there, she tapped seven times, and then three times more, with six seconds between each tap. The same waiter who she had waved away came back, his tray carrying a large tumbler of ale. He set it down, and then slid something else in underneath it before walking away. Shea watched as the waiter, a rabbit, was once more accosted by the older man. This time the rabbit slapped the hand away and gave the man, a wolf, a sassy little wink. _I guess here on an asteroid you don't have all that many choices._

Shea moved the ale and picked up the other item that had been dropped off. A small communications device. She placed her index finger on it and it flared to life. A pulsating blue holographic sphere blossomed into existence. A distorted, but probably masculine voice spoke. "Do you have it?"

"Not much for small talk, are you?" Shea replied to the disembodied voice.

"I was not under the impression you expected any. How is the weather?"

Shea almost smiled. Whoever this guy was, he was good. Even if his voice was distorted so she couldn't read his tone, and even if he chose to display a simple blue sphere that pulsed with each syllable he spoke so she couldn't read his expression, she knew he was stone cold calm on the other end. "Starry. As usual."

"Most excellent. I here it can be quite agreeable in an artificially maintained colony. I assume the constellations are quite a sight?"

"Yeah. Though most people are too busy to look up and appreciate them," Shea answered, playing along and making small talk.

"Perhaps they would feel differently if they had a means to travel among them, which brings me back to the point of this call. Do you have it?"

"I do." Shea reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She tabbed into a surveillance app that one of her crew had invented for them and pointed the screen towards the holoprojector's cam.

"Most excellent. However I am less than willing to fully trust such an impersonal means of verification. One of my agents will arrive on the asteroid within the next forty-eight hours to confirm you have it, and then make arrangements to bring it to my location. In the meantime, I trust I can count on you to keep it safe and secure. And that you have done nothing to block the tracking signal."

"Yes on both counts," Shea responded. "That's part of our agreement. Though I don't understand why you want the signal on."

"That is not information necessary for you to know."

 _Figured._ She shrugged, not sure whether her employer on the other end could see her or not, and not particularly caring. "Send your man, but don't be late. Contrary to what you might think, I do have other jobs I'd like to get to."

"I can certainly appreciate having a busy schedule. I myself rarely have time to do so much as sleep. My agent will transmit his identity upon his arrival. Please direct him to the appropriate coordinates upon making contact. Once we have verified that you have the item in question, my agent will hand over the payment of fifty million credits in Macbethan diamonds as agreed."

"Sounds perfect. Pleasure doing business with you," Shea said.

"The same to you."

With that the hologram winked out, and the projector fried itself. Shea leaned back in the booth and picked up her beer. She held it under her nose for a moment, then took a sip. She nursed it for another few moments, not wanting to look too eager to leave. Once she was certain no one was paying attention she stood and made her way out. Now it was back to Beta Colony, and the countdown to payday.


	9. Swinging Hatches, Cads, and Navy Brahms

**Chapter Nine**

 _ **Swinging Hatches, Cads, and Navy Brahms**_

The call came, as usual, in the middle of the night. The chime from the intraship woke Nadira Hatch from a warm, comfortable sleep in her bed. Raising her head from her regulation rock/pillow, the lioness groped in the darkness for the comm panel. Nadira managed to find it without knocking over the wine glass on her bedside stand and tapped the control to respond. "Hatch. What is it?" Her voice came out a bit slurred from sleep, and maybe the residual effects of the now empty bottle on the floor. _I'll be paying for that in the morning. Doc is gonna really love it too._

" _Commodore, you have an incoming message from Corneria. It's marked urgent."_

She recognized the voice of Ensign Duval, a recent transfer to the communications and signal division aboard ship. "Is it my wife?"

" _Ma'am?"_

"Nevermind ensign. Send it down here to my terminal." Nadira swung her legs out of bed and reached for her uniform shirt where it lay, discarded, on the deck. She pulled it down over her chest, stood up, and looked affectionately at her current bedmate, a civilian consultant named Carissa Encheva, assigned to the _Autumn at Dawn_ , Nadira's flagship, for the duration of their current patrol assignment. She worked for the Fortunan Cargo Service, and she was out here to report on security conditions along local trade routes. Nadira didn't really care. Her first officer was in charge of dealing with civilians aboard ship during the day to day, and she tended to leave him be. _Of course when the consultant is a smoking hot panthress with a rack that could capsize a yacht..._

Resisting the urge to ignore the communication and just slip back in bed with her, Nadira walked out of the room and into the small office in her quarters. A holographic painting of the Lylat System adorned one wall, while the other showed her real time tracking information on all the ships under her command. Nadira sat down in front of her terminal and touched the flashing button to open the communications channel. A face appeared on the screen, brown fur, long jowls, and a tired look in his eyes. "Pepper. How are things back on Corneria?"

" _Well enough."_ Pepper did his best to smile, but Nadira could tell a forced gesture when she saw one. _"I hope I'm not disturbing you."_

"Maybe a little," Nadira said with a shrug. "Comes with the life. What's going on?"

" _Haven't you heard?"_ Pepper looked at her as if she should know what was happening.

"Pepper," she called him by his last name, knowing he preferred it over his first name of Cornelius, even with friends. "I've gotten about two hours of sleep since going off shift, you're gonna have to spell it out." After saying that she reached up and rubbed her eyes.

" _Lucky you,"_ Pepper said, a note of bitterness in his voice. _"I've gotten exactly zero hours."_

That got Nadira's attention. "Zero hours? Come on Pepper, you were legendary for being able to get your beauty sleep no matter the circumstance."

" _Maybe."_ Pepper shrugged. _"Back in the day."_

Nadira pursed her lips at Pepper's subtle reminder that they were both older, more experienced, and shouldering a lot more responsibility than when they first joined the military. "Alright, what's going on that has you burning the midnight oil?"

 _"You really haven't heard."_ Pepper shook his head. _"Might not be the worst thing."_

"Pepper."

 _"Sorry, I'm rambling I know."_ Pepper yawned and reached for something out of range of the camera. It was a coffee mug. The hound took a long drink from it, then grimaced and put it away. _"Cold and stale. The Arwing was stolen."_

Nadira stiffened. She recognized the name. How could she not? The next generation space superiority fighter that was expected to revolutionize not just space combat, but space travel in general, with the invention of the G-diffuser. "What?"

 _"It was on en route to the Katina testing grounds when a pirate ship ambushed the freighter. They boarded and stole the prototype before anyone knew what was happening,"_ Pepper informed her. _"It was a clean job."_

Nadira stared at the screen in shock. Things like that didn't happen. Corneria to Katina was a safe travel zone. At least it had been. "Where the _hell_ were the Federation Security Forces?"

 _"On regular patrol."_ Pepper frowned. _"They thought the route would be more than safe enough that they could keep an eye on it from a distance."_

A low growl rumbled in Nadira's throat. The Lylat Federation Security Forces were, for all intents and purposes, cops. They didn't have military training, and they were run by civilians. For the most part they did their job well, keeping the space lanes secure, and dealing with law enforcement issues to big for local police. "Civvies," Nadira spat. "Should've had a military escort."

 _"Not possible. Military doesn't have jurisdiction in the civilian travel zones,"_ Pepper reminded her. _"You can't have warships in civilian lanes when it isn't war time."_

"Maybe we should think that over again after this," Nadira said, flexing her claws. Pepper was about to say something, but Nadira held up a hand. "I know. I know. The military patrols the Federation borders and interplanetary space, the planetary lanes are a civilian matter. You're never going to convince me it isn't a stupid arrangement. Security Forces have always been lax, understaffed, and lacking in firepower. Believe me, now that this has happened once, it's going to happen a dozen more times."

 _"I don't disagree."_ Pepper leaned back in his chair. _"But there's nothing you or I can do about it. People don't like the idea of military ships watching their every move while they travel from place to place. So, like it or not, we're stuck with the Security Forces."_

"Fair enough." Nadira knew what Pepper meant. The Federation had done a lot in the past decades to secure a stable and lasting peace here in Lylat, and even in other parts of the galaxy. Part of that had involved a level of demilitirization that, in Nadira's opinion, bordered on foolhardy. "Benefit of not having anyone in the galaxy willing or able to stand against us."

 _"I think we're getting a bit off course here, Nadira,"_ Pepper said, gently steering the conversation back to the more immediate matter at hand. _"The Arwing."_

"Right. You know if I'd been informed of the route I could have had a frigate or two in the vicinity. We'd stay in our lane, but we'd have been able to help. Which, by the way, how the hell did the route leak? Bribery?" Nadira suggested. Fatigue made her cynical. And though rare, that kind of corruption wasn't unheard of in the Federation. Though they had a central, federalized government, local planetary and regional governments could be something of a mixed bag. Cornerians demanded their elected officials maintain a level of scrupulous honesty that was hard to find anywhere else in the galaxy. Katina though? Colonies tended to struggle the most with corruption, and Katina was no exception.

 _"Actually we think it was a data breach,"_ Pepper said. " _Space Dynamics hasn't found any evidence of one, but that doesn't necessarily rule these things out these days. Hackers always seem a step ahead of cyber defense when it comes to covering their tracks."_

"Either way that's no good." Nadira glanced at the clock. She was on duty in four hours. _I think I'll give up on sleep. It'll be one of those coffee fueled days._ "Well, you wouldn't have called me if you didn't need me. What can I do to help?"

Pepper seemed to brighten a bit at that statement. _"We've put together a plan back here and, suffice it to say, we think it stands a good chance of succeeding."_

"Alright." Nadira leaned forward, her interest piqued.

" _We've located the Arwing. Phoenix had a very special transponder installed. A radiolytic isotope that's baked into all of his prototypes. It's unique, and can be easily tracked within a solar system,"_ Pepper explained.

"Impressive." Nadira had heard wondrous things about the head of Space Dynamics. He'd have to be some kind of genius to have taken the Space and Aeronautics industry by storm the way he had. It came as no surprise that he had come up with the idea of imprinting his prototypes with a tracking device no one would be able to get rid of, and that only he and whoever he shared the knowledge with would be able to track. "So, what do you need from me?"

Nadira sat back as Pepper explained the plan. She nodded throughout. It wasn't a bad plan, though a bit subtle for her tastes. She would've much preferred to simply take her entire battle group, blast any resistance they met, and send in the Marines, diplomatic considerations be damned. _Oh well. Even we swingers can't have everything they want in life._

" _You'll understand then if I tell you I need someone capable of being diplomatic?"_ Pepper said, hands clasped in front of him.

Nadira smirked. "I have just the man." She glanced up at the status board for her battlegroup, eyes searching for and finding one ship in particular. "A frigate will suffice, correct?"

" _A cruiser or destroyer would be too obvious."_ Pepper paused for a moment, looking considerate. _"Whitefur?"_

"For an assignment as delicate as this? I wouldn't trust anyone else." Nadira told him. "He knows how to deal with people just as well as he knows how to shoot them down. And believe me, with those Brahmin sensibilities he'll be more than capable of getting Crespo wetting their pants without saying a word about why he's really there."

" _Alright then. I don't suppose I have to tell you to keep this quiet. Technically the Security Forces should be working this case but..."_ Pepper trailed off.

"Phoenix doesn't want anything to do with them after they botched the escort for his prototype." It was a guess, but by the look on Pepper's face it was a good one. "Don't worry. I'll log Whitefur's ship as breaking off for an emergency resupply. You know logistics, they get things wrong all the time. Ask for winter gear and they'll send you mosquito netting."

That got a chuckle from Pepper. _"Sounds about right. Logistics will make a stink, but they know the drill. I'll let you get back to your sleep. Oh and, before I go, when do you think you'll be back on Corneria?"_

"What? You don't know?" Pepper gave her a long suffering look. Grinning, Nadira said, "Four, maybe five weeks. I'll drop you a line when I get back, we'll have a drink."

" _Looking forward to it. Pepper out."_

The screen went blank and Nadira yawned. She tapped the intraship for the bridge and requested a line for the _Clad in Amber_ , Commander Whitefur's frigate. A loading wheel appeared on her screen then as the connection was being made and routed. Nadira looked up and saw Carissa standing in the doorway to the bedroom, pushing a lock of raven black hair from her eyes. "You coming back to bed?"

"In a bit. Just gotta work some things out. Ship's business." Nadira eyed the loading screen, then helped herself to an eyeful of Carissa's outrageous chest. Tail flicking behind her, Nadira said, "Why don't you go back and warm up? I think we still have a few things to go over before morning."

"Mm. I'll be waiting." Carissa turned on her heel and sauntered out of sight, her tail arched to give Nadira a view of her backside as she retreated into the bedroom. Nadira gave a low rumble of appreciation.

Once Carissa was out of sight Nadira turned back to the screen where the image of a similarly sleep deprived arctic fox appeared. Every ship in the Federation Space Corps operated on Corneria City Standard Time, so it was as late on Whitefur's frigate as it was on her Hyperion-class battlecruiser. "Captain," she said, using the honorific used to address anyone in command of a ship, no matter their actual rank. "I'm sorry to wake you."

" _It's no problem Commodore,"_ Whitefur replied. _"What's going on?"_

Smiling, her sharp teeth on full hunter's display, Nadira said, "I have an assignment for you."

* * *

Sirens wailed in the distance, heard through the window of Cadman Dane's apartment in San Caruso. Cadman, a Great Dane, put a finger through the blinds and pulled down, taking a look outside. A few people were passing by, but none of them looked suspicious, or interesting. Just a couple with their children, and a pair of zoned out druggies on the street corner. Nothing at all unusual for San Caruso, a monument to excess and crime in the Lylat System, all of it happening right under the noses of Federation officials. _When the Feds united the system they said this kind of shit would go away._ Cadman snorted. _Fat fucking chance. There's too much money to be made. And I've made a lot of it._

"When will I be seeing you next?"

Cadman looked away from the window at the tiny, thin, white furred wolf who stood by his bed, wearing attire that could only charitably be called clothing. Cadman, lying on the bed without a stitch, took a drag of his cigarette and then nodded. "Not sure, but I'll let you know a few days ahead of time."

"My other clients book months in advance, you know." The girl, Arla, glared at him.

"Don't really give a shit what your other clients do," Cadman replied. "You know me, I'm good for double your usual rate. Pencil me in on your lunch break and I'll make it worth your while." When he said the last bit he looked at her knees, still a little wobbly, and then smirked at her.

"Fucking animal." Arla crossed her arms, but her tail wagged and gave her away.

"Come on babe, you know how life is. Work with me?"

Arla groaned and then nodded. "Sure. You got anything special you're gonna want?"

Cadman considered it for a moment. He was expecting a call soon from his boss, and that meant work. And after work came celebration. "Bring a friend next time. And..." Cadman smiled and added, "Better clear your whole day."

Arla's eyes lit up. She had a special rate for that kind of thing, and it was one very few clients could afford to pay. "Well for that I'm more than willing to cancel a few clients at the last minute. Any idea who you want me to bring? Species preference? Girl? Boy? Something in between?"

"Doesn't matter. Just make sure whoever it is likes it rough." Cadman set his cigarette down in the ashtray by his bed and leered at the girl. "Knows what they're doing. Like you."

"Uh huh."Arla nodded, then held out her hand. "Cash."

"Right." Cadman grabbed his wallet, stretched for a moment, then pulled out a wad of hundred credit bills. He handed them to her, watching as she counted, drinking in the sight of her. Petite. Tiny breasts. Tiny ass. Tiny everything. He liked that. He also liked that she was independant. No pimp to worry about. And, judging from how fast he'd moved up her client list, she enjoyed his company. _And even if she doesn't, it's not like it matters. I'm not paying for her to enjoy it._

She finished counting, then stuck the bills in her purse. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Same." Cadman crooked his fingers at her then, beckoning her closer. She complied, a look on her face that said she didn't mind giving him a little freebie. Just a little one though. He was just reaching out to grab hold of her middle to pull her in for a good, thorough grope, when the comm unit on his desk started flashing. "Shit."

"Shame." Arla said, leaning over to kiss him on the nose. Muzzle inches from his, she whispered, "I'm still a little wet for you."

Cadman chuckled, smacked her on the ass, and then said, "Get out."

Arla didn't argue, and she didn't look back. She just walked right out the door, five thousand credits richer, and her legs a little wobbly. Cadman waited for the door to click shut and for the sound of her footfalls to disappear before he got up and walked the short distance to his comm unit. The apartment he was staying in was one of dozens he owned throughout Lylat. Cheap, small, and in the lower class, criminal areas of towns. His work, and his boss, valued maintaining a nondescript exterior. So, Cadman lived in the "bad" parts of town, in tiny little apartments, but he had enough money to indulge in the highest class hookers, and whatever else in the galaxy he wanted. "Who says crime doesn't pay?" he wondered aloud as he sat down, his tall, bulky frame making the wooden chair squeak in protest. He tapped the comm unit, and a hologram appeared. "Sir."

" _Good evening Cadman."_ The hologram looked him up and down, the sharp feline eyes of Darius Vesper noting everything the camera allowed him to see. _"I trust I didn't call at in an inopportune time?"_

"Not at all, sir." Cadman continued using the formal honorific. Darius Vesper was not a man to be trifled with, and he'd earned Cadman's loyalty, saving him from a life in prison on Zoness ten years ago. "Just concluding some business."

" _What business?"_ Darius looked interested. Cadman had learned long ago that everything, _everything_ , interested the feline. If he had the time he knew that Darius would learn the history and personal details of every living being in the galaxy.

"Personal, sir. Nothing that would impact our working relationship."

" _Ah."_ Darius nodded. _"Whores will be the death of you, you know."_

Cadman chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I've had my vaccinations. And, if I end up dead balls deep in some bitch, I'll have died happy."

" _Mmm."_ Darius chuckled back. _"Good. I like a man who knows, understands, and has come to terms with his vulnerabilities. Now, I have an assignment for you. Shouldn't be too difficult."_

"What is it?" Cadman leaned forward again, his ears perking.

 _"I presume you've heard about the recent theft of the Arwing prototype?"_ Darius asked.

"It's all over the Corneria based newsnets. Though I don't think people around here care much." Cadman shrugged. "People in San Caruso have more practical problems."

 _"True,"_ Darius agreed.

"I assume you were behind it, if you're calling to tell me about it," Cadman surmised.

 _"Naturally."_ Darius looked off screen for a moment, and Cadman heard him tap a few buttons. A set of coordinates and a datafile appeared on the small, inset screen on the rim of the holoprojector plate. _"The Arwing is currently in Beta Colony on the mining asteroid BR-558, being kept by the same pirates I hired to steal it. I need you to go there, verify that they do indeed have it, and then make arrangements for it to make its way back to me. Coordinates for where to send it are included in the file."_

Cadman nodded, scrolling through the file. "Shea Etcher?"

 _"You know her?"_

"Know of her." Cadman went through his mental database. "She's about the only lowlife this side of Lylat ballsy enough to take on a mission like that. And the only one skilled enough to come away breathing, and with the target intact."

 _"I came to a similar conclusion,"_ Darius stated. _"Do you think she'd be worth recruiting?"_

"Couldn't hurt." Cadman shrugged. "I can feel her out, if you want."

 _"Do so. But be discreet. If you find her suitable, make an overture, but do not mention my name, or your relationship with me beyond what is necessary. Understood?"_

Cadman looked directly into the camera and said, "Understood. Anything else?"

 _"One other thing. The Macbeth operation?"_ Cadman nodded, signaling that he remembered. _"I believe we have our candidates. The diamond theft went off with barely a hitch. There will be a case waiting for you in a secure locker at the spaceport. Take it, and give it to Shea when you meet with her. Her payment is inside. Once you have concluded your work on this assignment, please would you be so kind as to meet with them on their homeworld, and brief them on the job I'd like them to take?"_

"Of course." Cadman asked, "Did they meet your estimation?"

 _"If they hadn't, they'd already be dead. One of them, the Harcothian, is, according to our good friend Chuck,"_ Darius said drily. _"You can expect your usual compensation, for both missions. I trust you will spend it wisely?"_

Cadman smirked. "For the most part."

Darius returned the smirk. _"Part of wisdom is knowing what one enjoys, and availing yourself of it when convenient. I'll be in touch. Vesper out."_

The projector switched off, and Cadman leaned back in his seat, the front legs tipping into the air. He felt a surge of energy then, and stood up to reach for his go bag. He dressed, threw on a coat, and then exited and locked his apartment. Vesper had given him a directive, and Cadman found that as always, he couldn't wait to fulfill it. _Another small payment for the life I live now. And I'm only too glad to pay it. BR-558 and then Macbeth. Should be good fun._

* * *

The silver grey shape of a Ceres-class light frigate cut through the tumbling fields of asteroids that made up the Meteo belt. Small and boxy, with a long, rectangular main hull, and three engine pods mounted on the rear of the hull in a trapezoidal formation, the Ceres-class had been in service with the Lylat Federation Space Corps for roughly fifteen years. A solid, if somewhat under armored vessel, it fared poorly against larger ships, carrying less firepower and weighing in at less tonnage than its destroyer cousins, but thanks to its cheapness, combined with its stunning effectiveness at patrol and escort duty, the Ceres _-_ class, along with two other, slightly heavier variants, were the most numerous vessels in the Federation fleet.

Sitting in the small ready room just off the main bridge of his ship, the _L.F.S.C._ _Clad in Amber_ , Commander Paul Whitefur sipped at his morning tea, a datapad in one hand as he read over the latest duty roster. His ship had been ordered into Meteo to a mining colony on BR-558, a large, moonlet sized asteroid owned and operated by Crespo Mining Industries. The orders had been relayed to him by his flotilla commander, Commodore Nadira Hatch, onboard the _L.F.S.C._ _Autumn at Dawn_. The imposing lioness had cracked a smile as she'd told him he was, officially, just there to take on some fuel and resupply, but that he should request shore leave for his crew, and feel free to hang about there for as long as he wanted. Paul could read between the lines. Command had something going down on BR-558, and they wanted Marines and Navy on the ground in case things got messy. They also wanted his ship in the area to show the flag, and maybe flush out whatever game they were hunting.

The comm panel on his desk lit up and beeped at him. Paul tapped the button and said, "Whitefur."

 _"Lieutenant Commander Henderson on the bridge sir,"_ came the husky voice of his first officer, Erika Henderson. _"We're entering Crespo space. Control there would like to know why we're here."_

Paul smiled a bit. "Do they sound nervous?" he asked, in his clipped, aristocratic, Grantham Isles accent.

 _"Mostly bored, but this is a low level tech, sir."_

Paul nodded, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to see it. "Tell them we'd like to resupply and refuel. And that we'd like permission for the crew to come ashore."

 _"Aye sir."_ Paul kept the line open and waited a moment. _"Sir,"_ said Erika. _"I've got a corporate suit on the line, he wants to talk to you."_

Paul smiled a predators smile and said, "Put him through to my ready room."

The holoprojector on his desk flashed and Paul swiped his hand across it. A male simian face appeared in the air above the projector, the collar of his shirt and the knot of his tie just visible. He looked rumpled and worried, though trying to hide it. _"Captain Whitefur, my name is Allen Figaro, to what do we owe the pleasure of a Federation visit?"_

Paul made sure his smile looked a bit more benign before he answered, "Just what we asked for, Mr. Figaro. I'm afraid there was a bit of an issue with the quartermaster and we've found ourselves short stocked on some of the essentials. We'd like to assume orbit and begin resupply and top off our plasma reserves."

 _"I'm certain we'll be able to accommodate you,"_ Figaro said, his face a study in blankness. _"Will there be anything else?"_

"One more thing. My crew hasn't had shore leave in quite some time. We're between assignments right now, and my flotilla commander has given me permission to offer shore leave to anyone who wants it. Would you be willing to accommodate us there as well?" Whitefur leaned in a bit towards the camera. Not much, but enough to add just a hint of intimidation to his posture.

Paul watched as Figaro grimaced, his face turning red around the edges. _"Well, we don't exactly encourage visitors."_

Arching an eyebrow, Paul asked, "Is there some problem I should be aware of?" A bit obvious, but then Paul wasn't trying to be too subtle. He was here to scare the piss out of this guy and the rest of the asteroid's governing board, not to start some sort of clandestine investigation.

 _"No. No of course not!"_ Figaro's face turned purple. _"We are completely above board in every way!"_ he blurted out.

"Relax Mr. Figaro," Paul said, holding up a hand. _Methinks you doth protest too much._ "I'm sure you have nothing to hide. Is there, by chance, some other reason you prefer to turn away visitors?"

Figaro tugged at his collar and explained, _"Our...security situation is not the most stable at the moment. Our Beta Colony has been having crime problems and, well, there are rumored attempts at unionization in Alpha. Things could escalate into a crackdown."_

Paul nodded. Privately he called BS on unionization. Crespo would never be stupid enough to arrest people over that. Even if they weren't technically under Federation jurisdiction, any violence over workers rights would lead to swift and punishing trade sanctions. The Federation looked out for its citizens, even if they weren't living at home. "Well, criminals are one thing. But I feel confident the Marines can handle themselves. And us Navy types are quite capable too. If there's no other reason?"

Figaro looked both defeated and panicky as he took a deep breath and tried to hide it all behind a calm mask. It didn't fool Paul for an instant. Having grown up an Old Brahmin, he'd learned at a young age how to read even the most subtle of visual cues, something considered essential in a society where gossip, scandal, and intrusiveness were the norm. " _No. No other reason. However I seriously recommend avoiding Beta Colony. It is simply not safe, and Crespo would like to avoid being held responsible for any avoidable mishaps."_

"Of course." Paul nodded. _How kind of you._ "I'll let my people know. We'll be arriving in orbit in about two hours," Paul added, glancing at the chronometer on his comm panel. "My first officer will handle any further arrangements. Good day, Mr. Figaro."

Paul cut the line and leaned back in his seat. After a moment he tapped the comm panel again and said, "Commander?"

Henderson's voice responded immediately, _"Yes sir?"_

"You can start forming shore parties. Just make sure and avoid Beta Colony."

 _"Yes sir,"_ Henderson replied. _"Anything else?"_

"No. That'll be all."

The channel closed and Paul blew out a breath. _Now we wait._

* * *

A/N: If you think Cadman is disgusting...good. He is. He is a despicable individual in every sense of the word. Just throwin' that out there. He's kinda of a...wait for it...CAD! AHHHHHHH! Sorry, but seriously, he's gross.

And yes, more character intros. Cadman is the important one, but I had an opportunity to intro Nadira here and I took it. Consider it a cameo with purpose. She won't be appearing again. And Papa Whitefur!

Next chapter will be up in a week, and it'll be a stunning representation of a spinning rock! I'll let you guys figure out what I mean ;)

-furdurhurfurfur


	10. Spinning Stones

**Chapter Ten**

 _ **Spinning Stones**_

The air in BR-558's Beta Colony was still and muggy. Walking down the trash littered, poorly illuminated street, Cadman could see why Crespo didn't have much of an interest in rehabilitating the place. It was too far gone already. So far gone in their estimation that they were letting the environmental systems work just hard enough to make the place habitable, but not comfortable. Cost saving measure, if he were to guess. He'd read and memorized the datafile that Vesper had sent him on the place. Abandoned for the most part once the last profitable veins of ore had gone dry. Most of the businesses that had sprung up to serve the colony's needs had left soon after, not seeing much point in staying as the miners lost their profit sharing bonuses. The regular wages that the miners made were barely enough to cover the essentials, and so entertainment, restaurants, and the like had gone out of business fast.

That didn't mean the place was uninhabited though. Most of the miners had been forced to stay on for the remainder of their contracts, and had been shifted to doing the most menial and dangerous work around the Alpha Colony's mines. They still lived here, commuting via the public transit system that linked the two colonies. Despite the miners presence though there was little to no legitimate money to be made here. _Which means there's plenty of room for illegitimate trade._

Cadman paused under the sickly yellow light of one of the few working street lamps. He stared up at the stars as they rotated above him and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep breath of tobacco infused smoke before blowing it out his nose. Nasty habit to be sure, but Cadman didn't mind. It was good to have obvious vices. It meant people would look at them and think they knew how to manipulate you, when in reality they were looking at the wrong thing. Though he'd admit the fact that he enjoyed the feeling that came along with a good smoke certainly had something to do with keeping the habit.

When he had finished his cigarette he flicked the butt onto the street and looked around. He was right where he was supposed to be. Someone should have been along to meet him by now. He turned around, slowly, and then smiled when he saw a maned wolf standing there, dressed in a wife beater and shorts, tail flicking behind him. "Hi there," Cadman said, looking the maned wolf up and down. Good muscle tone, healthy pelt, and looking tense but not skittish. "Shea send you?"

"She did," the maned wolf said. "Name is Dylan. You Cadman?"

"Yeah." Cadman nodded. "You need to frisk me or anything?"

Dylan smirked. "I do. Arms out, and try not to laugh if you're ticklish."

Cadman gave Dylan a dirty look and then complied. Arms at his side he tapped a foot impatiently as the maned wolf patted down every inch of him. Every inch. "Heh. That ain't a gun."

Dylan looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. "This is." He pulled out the blaster from the inside pocket of Cadman's coat.

"You didn't think I'd be stupid enough to walk around a neighborhood like this without one, did you?" Cadman said with an arched eyebrow. "Especially with folks like you lurking in the street."

Dylan snorted. "You got nothing to worry about from me unless Shea says otherwise." Dylan reached into Cadman's other coat pocket and pulled out a handheld scanner. He looked it over, flicked it on and gave its menu a cursory examination, then handed it back. "Come on, place is this way." Dylan waved a hand for Cadman to go ahead of him.

Cadman complied, satisfied by the maned wolf's caution. He was treating him like a prisoner, not a guest, which meant Shea had taught her crew to trust no one, least of all their employers. _Doing the work she does, for the people she does it for, that's a very good thing._

They walked in silence, Cadman turning and stopping where Dylan told him to. As they moved Cadman kept track of every place they went, committing street signs and landmarks to memory. The further they went however the darker and closer the streets and the buildings got. Cadman could guess that they were leaving the semi-illuminated neighborhoods of Beta and moving into the old, abandoned warehousing districts.

"Stop here," Dylan said from behind.

Cadman stopped and turned around to look at the maned wolf. The canid walked up to a small control panel set against the wall of the building. Looking up Cadman spotted the seams in the doorway, stretching from one of the end of the building's front to the other. A hangar then. Abandoned, of course. Cadman craned his neck to take a look at the ceiling of Beta Colony. _High enough for flight, provided you don't want to do any crazy maneuvering. Interesting._

"You ever fly around here?" Cadman asked, watching as Dylan typed in a security code.

"Sometimes." Dylan shrugged. "If we have heavy cargo that needs to get to the Beta spaceport."

"So, Beta does have a spaceport."

"Heh." Dylan shook his head, his mane flowing with the motion. "Not for tourists."

The doors to the hangar bay slid open with a dull roar. Cadman noted the lack of squeaking from distressed metal, which told him Shea's crew kept their territory in good repair. Another point in their favor. "After you." Dylan jerked his head towards the opening.

Cadman walked in, squinting a bit at the first adequate light he'd seen since leaving the main spaceport at Alpha Colony. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he took stock of the room. Metal crates and other cargo containers took up a fair portion of the area, the rest was filled out by what looked to be an old Cormorant-class dropship. A bit scorched around the smooth, rounded edges, but its quadruple engine pods looked to be in good his gaze full upon the center of the room, where, glimmering in the overhead lights, sat the most remarkable space vehicle he had seen in his life. Brilliant chrome finish outlined by sharp edges that gave it a dangerous, lethal feel. Cadman smiled. _That's what I'm here for._

The door rattled shut behind him, and Cadman looked up to see a female snow leopard coming down a short flight of stairs from an upper level office space. "Shea Etcher?"

"That'd be me," she called, picking up her pace to get alongside him. She held out a hand. "I assume you're here to check on the merchandise?"

Cadman took the hand and squeezed it. Shea squeezed back, her grip easily matching his. _Yeah. She could be useful._ "Yes. Give me a few minutes to kick the tires and then I'll let you know what's going to happen next."

"Be my guest." Shea gestured to the Arwing. Dylan cleared his throat and beckoned her. "Excuse me."

Turning back to the Arwing Cadman pulled his scanner from his coat. He flicked it on and started taking readings, walking a slow circle around the starfighter. He was halfway around it when the first set of scans confirmed that it was the prototype Vesper was looking for, and not some elaborate decoy. He tapped a control to start the second batch of scans and glanced over at Shea and Dylan. The two of them had their heads together, talking in hushed, urgent tones. Interesting.

When he got to the nose of the Arwing he bent down and ran the scanner underneath it. He looked into the forward laser cannon, impressed at the firepower the ship's default weapon provided. He didn't have long to appreciate it however. His scanner started beeping. "Hello." Cadman stood up and scrolled through the readings. "Shea?"

"What?" The snow leopard looked over, worry lines creasing the fur on her forehead.

"You are aware this thing is spitting out radiation like a leaky fuel rod?" Cadman asked.

"Yes." Shea stalked over with a shake of her head. "I didn't block it since you're crazy ass boss told me not to. Fucking hell. No wonder they're here."

That caught Cadman's attention. "Who?"

Shea grimaced and replied, "A Federation frigate just entered orbit above the asteroid."

Now that was unexpected. "Feds huh? Security or military?"

"Military," Shea told him.

"Strange," Cadman noted. "The military doesn't usually get called in for this sort of thing. That's what the Security Forces are for."

"I don't particularly care about the legal aspect of it," Shea bit out. "I want this thing gone. Now. Before they find it."

"Relax honey," Cadman said, resting a meaty hand on her shoulder. "If it's a military ship they're probably here on a resupply run or for repairs. Give it a day. If they're not gone by then, then we can start worrying."

Shea glared at him and shoved his hand off her shoulder. "And what if I say different?"

 _Assertive. Point in her favor._ Cadman looked in her eyes, searching for signs of panic. He didn't find any. Good. She was concerned, but not liable to do anything stupid. "Our mutual employer didn't just send me to check out the merchandise. He also wanted me to make arrangements for getting it off this rock and into his hands."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Shea asked, eyes narrowing as she looked up at him, her tail swaying behind her.

"By hiring you." Cadman watched as she glared, then looked at him with bland amusement.

"How much are you offering?"

"First, if it comes down to it, do you think you can get past a frigate?" Cadman asked, leaning forward a bit, invading her personal space. He wanted to see how she reacted to a little up close and personal pressure.

Shea didn't flinch or try to get away, she just kept staring at him while she said, "Yes. But I'd prefer not to."

"Good." Cadman leaned away and pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He pulled one out, then offered another one to her. She took it, much to his satisfaction. Lighting them both up he said, "Give it a day. If they're still here after that, we'll come up with a new plan. Now, name your price"

Shea nodded, taking a drag from the cigarette before blowing the smoke in his face. "You know my rates, I'm sure." Cadman nodded. "Double the usual, because I can tell you need me, so I can get away with it. And, if we have to fight our way past that frigate, I expect to be fully compensated for any damage to my ship. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Cadman held out his hand and they shook once more. With business concluded, Cadman said, "You have a comm unit?"

"In the office." Shea pointed up the stairs. "Help yourself. It's encrypted."

Cadman stepped past her and headed up the stairs. He opened the door to the office and stepped in. Small, well lived in. A single desk, a comm unit resting on it, and a computer. Three chairs, one behind the desk, the other two in front. And an ash tray with several cigarette butts. That made Cadman smile. _I think I'm going to like her._

Sitting down behind the desk Cadman took another drag and then typed the code Vesper had given him into the comm unit. The comm flashed as it made the connection, and then a blue, pulsating orb appeared. Cadman recognized the distorted voice being used when Vesper said, "Cadman. Report."

Taking one last lungful of smoke before answering, Cadman said, "I'm afraid there's been a complication."

* * *

BR-558's spaceport had none of the magic, amenities, or artistic design of its Cornerian cousins. Corneria's spaceports were architectural wonders, incorporating styles from every world and every era in a seamless, unified design, meant to demonstrate the world's multicultural heritage. There were gardens with centuries old trees, soft grass, and brilliant flowers. There were restaurants that catered to every diet and every price range. Shops and stores offering goods from a hundred different places on a dozen different planets. A sense of history was given through paintings and signs depicting the names of Corneria's early space travelers. A touch of wonder was added with holographic images of Lylat, Cerinia, Harcothia, Argelius, and hundreds of other solar systems floating in the air above traveler's heads. The hustle and bustle of people arriving and departing narrated by announcements and conversations in dozens of languages and dialects.

Looking around at the stark, metallic surroundings, Archer Lynx saw none of this. Instead, he observed only the bare minimum of facilities in the docking ring. Boarding ramps, cargo conveyors, and monitor panels, along with stacks of crates and cans waiting to be taken to the warehousing districts or loaded onto outbound freighters. The whole place stank of chemicals, machine oil, and metal warmed by Lylat and Solar's radiation. There were no flowers. No grass. And no cafes. Just stark metal equipment that all looked like it could do with a bit more upkeep and a little less use. _I guess out here Crespo doesn't have to worry about Cornerian regulatory standards._

Behind them Archer heard the pinging and groaning of cooling hull plating from the freighter he and Star Fox had arrived in. It was a rickety, non-descript thing, carrying a cargo of flash frozen fruit from one of the southern Cornerian rainforests. It had been provided and captained by a man from Federation Intelligence. Archer never would have known. The man, an ursine with a protruding belly and little interest in talk, looked nothing like a spy. He looked, rather, like one of billions of working class people throughout Lylat, some of which Archer had grown up with in the suburbs around Corneria City. The kind of man who worked hard, made ends meet, and spent his six weeks of paid vacation at the local resort and casino six miles down the road before retiring. _I almost wonder how many of my neighbors could have been spies._

The bear, Jackson, pushed his way past Archer towards the docking official. As he passed James he muttered softly, "Just let me handle this."

Archer saw James nod. The lynx felt some butterflies in his stomach. This would be the first test of their cover. Crespo had no reason to suspect they were about to be infiltrated, but Intelligence had warned them that any company operating with black marketeers would be on the lookout for forged IDs. Archer hoped that their cover as hired hands looking to score a job on the asteroid would hold up to scrutiny.

Standing next to Vixy, Archer crossed his arms and tried to look nonchalant. Vixy elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"If you're trying to look casual," she said through grit teeth, "Don't try and look like you're acting casual."

"Sorry." Archer shook his head and did what came naturally, he looked a little nervous. As Jackson talked to the deck official Archer glanced over his shoulder at the starfield. It was wheeling around as the asteroid spun. The spin had been artificially increased to mimic Corneria normal gravity, but looking out at it made Archer feel nauseous. "I never realized how fast things spin in space."

Glancing over at him, Peppy said, "You want to know exactly how fast we're spinning?"

Feeling his ears turn green Archer looked away and shook his head. "Please no."

"Come on Archer, don't you have your space legs yet?" Vixy teased, sticking her tongue out at him and wagging her tail.

"Artificial gravity is one thing," Archer said, breathing deeply. "Seeing the stars spinning like a pinwheel is another."

"You know," James chimed in, "Back in the early days of space travel the only place on a ship that had gravity was a central area that spun to produce it. Before we invented gravity plating."

"I'm glad I was born in a civilized century." Archer shook his head and reached into the pocket of his jumpsuit. He pulled out a tin of peppermints, removed two, and popped them in his mouth. He felt a wash of relief almost immediately.

"Hey."

"What?" Vixy was looking at him as he started to replace the tin.

"Hand me some of those." Vixy stuck out a hand, making a grabby gesture with her fingers. Archer sighed and handed her the tin. She took two and handed it back. "Mmm. I love these. Oddly Strong mints."

"Oddly Strong has always been my favorite brand." Archer replaced the tin and looked over at Jackson. "What do you think is taking so long?"

James shrugged and said, "I think they're having a chat."

"A chat?" Archer narrowed his eyes. "About what?"

Next to Archer, Peppy swiveled his ears briefly in the direction of the ursine and the simian dock official. "Something about landing permits. Sounds like a lot bureaucratic posturing. Nothing to worry about."

"I wish I had ears like yours."

"It's not always a blessing," Peppy said, eyes shifting over to look at James.

James, picking up on Peppy's veiled implication, smirked and said, "Look, how was I supposed to know the hotel walls were that thin?"

Vixy snorted and clapped James on the shoulder. "Aww. Were you keeping Peppy up with your whore moans?"

"Actually I think it was probably the twins..." James trailed off as Jackson shook hands with the dock official and then made his way back over to them. "What's the word?"

"The word is good." Jackson nodded back towards the freighter. "Help me unload, then you can head to your hotel."

"Alright." James looked back at them and said, "Well don't just stand there. We've got fruit that is currently running out of its freshness guarantee. Let's move it."

"You got it." Archer turned around, took one look at the starfield as it rotated and said, "Jackson?"

"Bathrooms are over there." The bear pointed towards a set of doors about ten meters away.

"Right." Archer took off at a run, muttering to himself, "This mission is not going to end well."

* * *

The door to the hotel room clicked shut behind them and the lights flicked on. "Wow. Luxury accommodations," James said, taking stock of the room.

Two queen sized beds, a holovision, and a chair with a small, scuffed writing desk, and nothing else. The walls were wallpapered, but it was ripped, torn, and tattered in more places than it was smooth. James couldn't really get a handle on what the pattern might have been originally. His nose twitched as he took the scent of the room. Plenty of disinfectant, so at least the place was clean, but it still didn't hide the scent of the hundreds of different people that had occupied the room in the past. "I do not recommend a black light," he added.

"Oh gross." Vixy shuddered next to him.

"Aww it's alright. We can make our own stains on the linen." James wrapped an arm around her shoulder and made a kissy face. Vixy shoved him away and gave him the finger. Peppy looked at him with a reproachful eye. "Oh. Right." _I can't believe I signed that._

"Exactly." Peppy unshouldered his duffel bag and tossed it on one of the beds. "You'll be sleeping with me while we're here, James."

The room went silent, and James looked at his best friend with a massive, shit eating grin. Peppy, bent forward a bit as he set his case on the bed, straightened up and looked back at James. He groaned when he saw the look on the vulpine's face. "Of course you would take it like that."

"Sorry Pep." James put his own duffel bag on the bed and unzipped. He checked the contents. A couple changes of clothes, rolled on the surface. Beneath them a Cornerian Army standard issue EP-37 electro-plasma sidearm, and a few spare power cells. A handheld scanner, a comm unit, since cell phones were both unreliable on asteroid colonies like this, and subject to easy tracking and tapping, and finally his e-reader, chock full of books on everything from aviation to action thrillers and, just in case he really needed it, a few dirty novels he'd gotten on the cheap. _The cheap ones are the most fun._

"Wait."

James looked over at Vixy. She was looking at the e-reader with an expression of astonishment on her face. "Mm?"

"You can read?"

James glared at her. "Fun-ee."

Vixy just cackled and started going through her own bag. "Peppy?" James glanced at the hare.

"On it." The hare pulled out their bug sniffer and started scanning the room. It'd take a few minutes, and in the meantime they would need to make some casual conversation. Conversation appropriate for spacers who had, according to their cover, been stuck on a freighter doing cargo runs for the better part of three months.

"So," said James, "Anyone spot that slut by the docks?"

Archer, who had been taking a drink from a water bottle, started making choking noises. Peppy rolled his eyes. Vixy, however, was game to play along. "What, the one with the thick ass? Yeah I saw her. You going after that?"

"Yeah. Or at least someone like that." James flopped on the bed and put an arm behind his neck. "I want some serious cushion for my pushin'. How about you?"

Vixy shrugged, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, her tail swinging behind her. "I don't know. I'll be honest, I could go for a big guy. Muscle-gut you know? Tough hard ass who don't give a shit. You know the type."

"Sure do." James eyed Vixy. _I wonder if she's serious._ "Should be plenty of them around here. Just head to any of those dive bars down the street. You could probably pick up three or four, if you were into that."

"I might be." Vixy licked her chops, and James knew she had to be teasing him. "What about you Lynx?"

Archer, who had managed to get his breathing under control, sat down in the room's one chair and said, "I got a girl back home."

"Bullshit." Vixy shook her head. "And besides, you really give a fuck? How long have we been out here? Take my advice, find a girl, or a guy, and dump those nuts."

"Good advice," James agreed. He looked at Vixy with newfound respect. She was getting into the role. Playing right along.

"We're clear," Peppy announced, deactivating the sniffer. "So, please, can we stop this absolutely disgusting conversation?"

"Sure. Though I'd have loved to see how much further Vixy would would have gone," James said, sitting up on the bed and pulling out his scanner.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Vixy sat down on the other bed and leaned back on her elbows.

"I would." James looked up from his scanner.

"I'll tell you some other time. When we're not oathbound, maybe." Vixy winked at him, then pointed back to his scanner. "Come on, we gotta find that thing."

"Range on that is only about a square kilometer," Archer pointed out. "We can't sweep the entire colony."

"Not Alpha, no." James tapped a few controls on the device, tuning it to scan for the specific isotope they were looking for. "But Beta is a lot smaller, twenty square, tops."

"That'll still take a long time to scan," Archer argued, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean, we could do it, but do you really wanna be walking around a black market haven taking scans for days?"

James frowned. Archer made a good point. "I hadn't thought of that."

"There's another thing we need to think about," Peppy brought up. "Feds have a frigate in orbit. Supposedly they're just trying to scare the crap out of Crespo but..."

James nodded. "The frigate is a distraction. Trust me, with the _Clad in Amber_ up there, and a bunch of Marines and Navy down here, tearing up the town on leave, no one is going to take a second look at a few spacers just trying to get laid." _I hope._

"Okay," Vixy said. "So, mighty leader, what's the plan?"

"Well." James paused, a smile creeping up along the edges of his muzzle. "Anyone feel like a drink?"


	11. Caught With Their Pants Down

**A/N: The mission and world building continue.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _ **Caught With Their Pants Down**_

With a hissing noise the hypospray deposited its contents into James McCloud's bloodstream. Reflexively he reached up to rub at the spot on his arm, soothing the stinging sensation left behind by the injection. Next to him came another hissing noise, then a second, and then a third and final one. Looking at Peppy as the hare stowed the hypospray in his luggage, James asked, "Alright, so how long does this anti-intoxicant last?"

"Ten hours," Peppy replied. "According to Jackson."

"Good. That should be more than enough time." James nodded in satisfaction.

Vixy raised her hand, a confused look on her face. "I'm sorry, I'm not entirely sure what the hell Peppy just forced into my bloodstream. Explain?"

"An anti-intoxicant drug," Peppy said by way of explanation. "It's a compound of different chemicals that will help us metabolize alcohol at many times the normal rate. You can drink anyone under the table and you won't feel so much as a buzz."

"Ah." Vixy considered this for a moment, then said, "What's the point of going to a bar and not getting drunk?"

"We're not there to get drunk," Peppy said, his patience wearing a bit thin. James knew Vixy had a way of getting under the hare's fur. He'd always liked that about her. "We're there for information. And we'll probably have to go to several bars along the way, hence the anti-intoxicant."

"Uh huh." Vixy frowned. "I guess I'll have to act drunk."

"You don't..."

James held up a hand to stop Peppy. "She has a point Pep. Look drunk, act a little drunk, just don't be drunk. We need to blend in."

"Fair point," Peppy allowed.

"What place are we hitting first?" Archer asked.

James considered it for a moment, then said, "We'll try the places near the transit areas first. If any of the pirates are coming out of Beta looking for a drink, they'll probably go for the first place they see. Pirates aren't picky, after all."

"What do we do if we find the people we're looking for?" Vixy inquired.

"That's where these come in," Archer spoke up, pulling out a box from his duffel bag. He opened it and handed each of them a couple of small, bean sized pellets.

"What do I do with these?" Vixy asked. "Make them a very weak cup of coffee?"

Archer chuckled. "Nope. Just squeeze it in your hand, and get some of it on them. They're tiny nano-trackers. They'll bond with the wearer's clothes, skin, fur, whatever, and we'll be able to track them anywhere on the asteroid."

"Okay, question." Vixy raised a finger, and James smiled as Peppy blew out a breath of frustration. "Why not use these on the Arwing, rather than that radio-power iso-what's-it?"

Crossing his arms and smiling, Archer said, "Because, if I had stolen an Arwing, these would be some of the first things I would look for. And you can kill 'em off with a simple burst of Gamma radiation."

"Oh. Then are you sure they won't just do that to the guys we tag?"

"Would you let yourself get Gamma irradiated?" James cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Okay. Good point." Vixy nodded. "Well, I'm satisfied."

"Good to hear," Peppy muttered under his breath.

Vixy looked like she was going to make some sort of smart remark about that, but then decided not to. James hid a smile. She knew they were going to work, and she was acting professional. _She's full of surprises, that's for sure._

"Okay everyone," James said, clapping his hands together. "We've got ten hours. Let's hit the bars, find our intel, and all come home in one piece. Sound good?"

There were nods of agreement, and James led the way out of the hotel room. Vixy hustled up beside him and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "Hey, if this stuff doesn't work, I'm down to break that oath."

James chuckled, pausing for a moment and waving for Peppy and Archer to continue down the hall. He pitched his voice to a low whisper as he said, "Are you propositioning me?"

Vixy shrugged, twirling a lock of her blond hair. "Sure. Why not?"

"Just wondering." James moved a little closer and took her hands in his. "I appreciate the offer, but Peppy really meant well when he had me sign that. This is a big mission, and I can't get distracted. Make sense?"

"Yeah. Makes sense." Vixy nodded, then kissed him on the nose. "Your loss."

She started sauntering away, but before she could get out of reach James grabbed her arm and, with a smirk, said, "If you think the minute this mission is over though I'm not cornering you and at least two other girls..."

Vixy grinned and wagged her tail. "Come on James. Gotta earn your puss-puss."

"James?" Peppy called from down the corridor, the elevator door having opened.

"Coming," James called back. "And don't even make that joke," he warned Vixy.

The two of them rejoined Archer and Peppy, and the doors slid shut in front of them. Time to go to work.

* * *

Four bars and a few hours later, James was starting to lose hope they would find what they needed. He and his team were being subtle, but sometimes it seemed like subtle just didn't work on drunken spacers and miners. They'd searched around for anyone that looked like they might be Beta colonists, thinking they would have better luck with them, but it seemed Beta colonists didn't like to talk to strangers. Or just about anyone. James was half considering asking Vixy to try seducing one of them.

As they entered their fifth bar, James looked around at the decor. Neon signs displayed the various types of liquid liver failure available (one of the mixed drinks was, literally, called Liver Killer), a jukebox in the back played tunes that were about thirty years out of date, and a haze of smoke covered everything. Next to him Archer coughed and said, "I thought people weren't supposed to smoke inside."

James chuckled. "You really think Crespo is concerned with their employees health? They make money off every doctor's visit these people make."

"Oh." Archer shook his head. "This whole place just...isn't right to me."

James guided them all towards a booth that looked out on the rest of the bar. "What do you mean?"

Sitting down, Archer rested his elbows on the table. "The way these people are being exploited. The way there's absolutely no consideration given to anything but profit. I mean, there's nothing here for them at all except..."

"Exploitation." James shrugged. "Someone has to do this work. This kind of thing, well, it makes the planets spin."

Archer shook his head. "It's still not right."

Tapping the holographic order control, James selected an imported brew and sent it to the bar. He saw their table materialize on the list of those waiting for service. "Yeah. Well, this isn't Corneria."

"What's that got to do with it?" Archer looked confused.

"He means," Vixy said, "This sort of thing goes on all over the Federation. All over the galaxy. Maybe not as bad on Federation worlds, but where we grew up it was always a fight between farm workers, small farmers, and the big Agri Corps."

"Sure," Archer agreed. "Everyone knows that the Papetoonians had to fight for their rights. But you guys got them, and the Federation guarantees them. You get unions, collective bargaining, universal healthcare. What do these people get?"

"Nothing." Peppy ran a hand down his face, then rubbed his eyes. "It ain't fair. It ain't right. But it is what it is. And Cornerians benefit from it. So do Papetoonians, Fortunans, Zonessians, the whole damn Federation. Crespo and the other mining consortiums con our citizens into coming out here, promising them a new life out on the frontier, then they trap 'em, pay 'em a bare minimum with 'profit-sharing' to make themselves sound generous, and you get all your raw materials and rare metals for dirt cheap. Post-scarcity isn't always as pretty as we like to think."

James frowned and said, "True 're not here to solve the galaxy's problems though. Keep an eye on the room, I gotta go take a piss."

Standing up from the table James headed for the men's room, keeping his ears perked for conversations that might fit the bill of what they were looking for. He didn't hear much of anything interesting. Though he did pick up on what he thought might be a compliment directed at his ass. _Even out here in the boonies they know a good one when they see one,_ he thought to himself with a smirk before pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Taking a look around he saw that all the urinals were taken. Shrugging he headed for the first open stall. Despite the sound of urination, and an unpleasant smell in the air, he kept alert. Guys said stupid things in the bathroom.

Unzipping his pants James sighed as he relieved himself. Midway through he heard the sound of a communicator beeping just outside his door. Footsteps that had been going by paused, and he heard, "Yeah? What? At a bar. No, I don't. I didn't look at the name. Yeah. You're serious? With a frigate in orbit? What is she fucking nuts?"

James cupped his ears in that direction, zipping up and flushing the toilet with his foot. He stayed in there just long enough to hear, "Fuck. Fine. Yeah I'll get everyone back." The communicator flipped closed. "Better get fucking hazard pay for this."

With that James emerged from his stall and spotted his target. A wiry raccoon who was just about to walk out the door. James chased after him, adding a drunken lurch to his step. He pulled one of the little tracking pellets from his pocket, smashed it in his hand, and then made himself stumble. "Whoa!"

He grabbed onto the raccoon, smearing the fine, translucent dust on the back of his vest and his arm. "Hey man, what the fuck?"

"Sorry," James replied, slurring his words a little. "You okay?" The two other guys in the room glanced at them, then went back to the more urgent matter of emptying their bladders.

"Sure man. Whatever. Just keep your hands off me, huh?" The raccoon shoved past him and out the door.

James shrugged and went over to the sink. He looked in the mirror as the water ran over his hands, then reached for the soap dispenser. He waved his hand under it. Nothing. He squeezed it. Still nothing. "That's just unsanitary," he muttered to himself. He killed the faucet and shook off his hands before walking back out into the bar.

"That was quick," Vixy said as James slid back into their booth.

"What do you mean?" James asked, cocking an eyebrow at her as he pulled his scanner from his pocket. He pressed the button to activate it, and the screen popped out of the metal body.

"I figured you'd last longer," Vixy went on.

"Huh?" James looked up at her in confusion, then saw her naughty little smile. "Oh ha ha. I will have you know I have never used one of those before."

Archer took a sip of his beer and pretended not to be listening, though James caught the edges of a smirk on his lips. Peppy looked between the two, and then asked, "Do I want to know?"

"I just thought he went in there to use one of the most glorious of all holes." Vixy giggled at her own joke.

Shaking his head, James wagged his tail and replied, "If I ever did, I'm sure you'd be the first to know." Peppy looked mildly nauseated. Archer just snickered and kept an eye on the bar. "Peppy, take a look at this."

Peppy took the scanner from James's hand, keeping it out of sight beneath the table. "You tagged someone in the bathroom?" Peppy whispered. James nodded. "Sure about this one?"

"Positive. I heard him talking on his communicator. This is definitely what we're looking for," James told him.

"I'm inclined to believe you," Peppy said, stroking his mustache.

"Oh yeah?" Vixy leaned over slightly to get a look at the screen. "He's heading..."

"...right for Beta Colony," Peppy finished, smiling. "We got 'em."

* * *

Traffic moved sluggishly in Corneria City. Even with advanced public transit systems, sentient kind had never quite found a way to tackle the problem of too many cars in too few lanes. Sitting in the back of the white, Space Dynamics emblazoned SUV, Argus scrolled through data on his tablet. Space Dynamics' stock had taken a plummet with the report of the Arwing theft. It didn't bode well for the future of his company if they were unable to retrieve the prototype intact. _Fortunately I never did believe in putting all my eggs in one basket._

Space Dynamics, despite being a newcomer to the field of aerospace engineering and manufacture, had a diverse portfolio. It produced everything from custom yachts to heavy load industrial freighters. The Arwing was, in reality, more of an indulgence than the media was letting on. Argus had wanted to get into the space fighter design sector since he was a child, but in such an entrenched and intensely competitive field, he knew enough to expect setbacks, both large and small. With that in mind he'd ordered all of his division heads to proceed as if it were business as usual, and to leave the matter of the Arwing to him. He would respond to all media requests for comment and take all questions regarding the Arwing project.

The SUV made a turn and Argus looked up to see a sign marking Government Street. The traffic became noticeably less heavy as they proceeded. Argus watched out the window as the tall, imposing metal skyscrapers of Corneria City began to give way to shorter, older looking buildings made of marble in a variety of warm, inviting colors. Gardens proliferated to a degree that made even him, a native born Cornerian, wonder if he was in a forest or a city. These were the offices of all the various branches and agencies for Corneria's planetary government. The Assembly Hall, the Planetary Supreme Court, the Department of Environmental Affairs, and at the end of it, the Governor's House.

They passed all of these, and instead approached a much more modern building at the end of the next street. Road signs changed from Government Street to Federation Way, and the antique marble buildings were replaced by large, sprawling, glass and metal structures. Like the skyscrapers of Corneria City, many of them were almost entirely transparent. Through his window Argus could see staffers and employees going about the daily business of governing and overseeing entire planets, some of them looking out on the street, others with their backs turned and heads down as they labored at workstations, and still more gesticulating wildly as they argued and discussed the finer points of administrating with colleagues and superiors.

The see through design had been intentional, Argus new. The Federation prided itself on being an open and democratic society, and so Federation offices were all made to be both institutionally and literally transparent. Privacy could be counted on when it was needed, but the symbolism was important. Security was tight, but still tourists and civilians abounded, though traffic declined even more as they went on. As part of the security setup, Federation Security didn't allow any unauthorized vehicles on the streets. Citizens were welcome to arrive via public transit, through subways and buses, but cars were a no-no. _A good policy, even if certain elements of society still chafe at it. The Federation has enemies, and cars are as much a weapon as a knife or a blaster._

A few minutes later and Argus' driver pulled up to a security checkpoint. The window rolled down and the driver leaned out to talk to a security guard. The guard, a female corgi, nodded as she conversed with Argus' driver, a panther, and then asked for ID. Scandocs were exchanged, scrutinized, and then returned. The guard stepped back and waved them through with a nod, a smile, and good wishes. The entire exchange lasted two minutes, and Argus knew that, despite the friendly and efficient manner in which it had been handled, there had likely been more hidden weaponry and surveillance equipment pointed at him for those two minutes than existed in the entire rest of Corneria City combined. No one could accuse the Federation Council of not taking the very real threat of terrorism seriously. _Especially with what's been happening on Titania. The Federation isn't exactly well liked there. By either side._

Darkness descended on the SUV as it pulled into the underground parking structure. Argus closed his tablet, the holographic screen disappearing as the two projecting halves met, and stuck it in his pocket. They descended to sublevel three, the first two levels being reserved for Council members and their staff. "Here we are sir," his driver said, turning to look at him. "Should I wait here for you?"

Argus nodded. "This should be a short meeting."

"Yes sir."

Argus opened the door, hopped out, and shut it. He took a breath of the cool, underground air, shivered, and then headed for the nearest lift. He didn't like cold environments. Even cool could be a bit much for him. His short fur did little to insulate his body, and his oversized ears, large even for a fennec, dissipated heat from his body at a fantastic rate. Argus stepped into the lift and pushed the button for the surface level. The doors opened a moment later and he walked briskly out onto the path leading to the Federation Council Building.

Willow trees lined the path, and Argus' shoes crunched in the gravel as he walked. Reading benches were arranged beneath the trees, and a few small comm terminals were placed alongside the path, showing the time and scrolling updates on major news stories, as well as polling predictions for the upcoming Federal and Planetary elections. Argus paused briefly to glance at them, and noted that Cedwyn's party, Forward!, looked poised for a slim majority, with the incumbent party routed, and a few others looking to make some gains or hold ground. _Good for him. I doubt it'll improve his mood though._

Automatic doors with the Federation seal emblazoned on them parted as he approached. Air conditioned air greeted him, along with the trickling of koi ponds situated on either side of the entryway. Argus walked up to the receptionist, scanned his handprint, and then said, "I'm here to see Councilor Llewellyn."

Looking up at him, the receptionist, a male, heavily muscled bulldog who Argus suspected was probably part of the first line of defense for the interior of the building, said, "Name?"

"Argus Phoenix."

"Alright. Go on up," the bulldog said after typing in his name and verifying his appointment.

Argus smiled and walked past the reception area to one of the lifts. He tapped the call button, nodded to a few people lining up with him, and then stepped in once the doors opened with a _ping!_ Everyone pushed for the floor they were going to, and a few people gave him interested glances when he hit the button for the second highest floor, right beneath the Prime Minister's offices. _Please don't recognize me. I really don't want to talk to anyone. Last thing I need is some low level staffer leaking the contents of any of my conversations just to prove he's in the know._

The doors opened three times before they reached Argus' stop. When he stepped out of the lift he left behind an empty car. There was another receptionist, and once again Argus had to have his appointment confirmed. Once it was the doors to the offices unlocked, and a guard waved him through.

When the door shut behind him Argus started making his way through the crowds of staffers, lobbyists, and even a few journalists. He dodged the last group, knowing that even if everyone here recognized him, which of course they did, the journalists would be the ones running to get comments and ask him questions. _Why does Cedwyn's office have to be so far back?_

Contrary to what that might have seemed to imply, the distance from the doorway into the Council offices and Cedwyn's office actually denoted his importance. It meant that, if someone were to force their way through the doors, the people in front of him were more expendable than he was. Macabre, but practical and logical. It helped not to think too much about it.

Rapid footfalls started gaining on him from behind. Argus' hearing picked up the sound of notepad pages being turned, and the sound of a camera being clicked on. His eyes widened. He'd been spotted. He picked up his pace, heading straight for the doors to freedom. The footsteps behind him picked up as well. Argus broke into an almost-run.

Arriving at the doorway to Cedwyn's office, Argus had to once more push his hand against a scanning plate. The plate flashed, read his biometric signature, and then unlocked and opened the door. "Mr. Phoenix! Mr. Phoenix!"

Argus stepped into the door and called, "No comment!" as the door clicked shut behind him. Argus looked across the room to see Cedwyn, his bulky frame resting in a leather chair, expression amused, and said, "For a transparent and democratic government, security here is downright paranoid."

Cedwyn chuckled and motioned for Argus to take a seat across from him. _Across the desk, not on the couches. He's not happy with me._ Argus walked to the chair and took a quick glance around. There were bookshelves nestled in the corners, replete with volumes on governance, biographies of past political leaders, tomes on the history of every world in Lylat, and even a few on Cerinia and Harcothia. Behind Cedwyn a floor to ceiling window gave a view of the Federation Park, where the crowds of citizens arrived every five years to witness the inauguration of a president. _Which I'm sure Cedwyn sees himself as at some point._ "I saw the polling downstairs. Looks like you could be on your way to a majority."

"With Farris and Constand on the ticket?" Cedwyn snorted, referring to the current President and Prime Minister. "I'd be embarrassed if we weren't."

Argus nodded. Kinman Farris and Julius Constand had run themselves into a ditch recently after a generally panned debate performance and series of legislative defeats for their Moving Together party, a Zonessian upstart that, ironically, had had trouble uniting its disparate members. "I'm a little surprised you aren't on the ticket."

Cedwyn shrugged. "I've got plenty of elections left. Now, we better talk business. What the hell happened?"

"The Arwing got stolen."

"I know that." Cedwyn shook his head. "The whole damn galaxy knows that. I was talking more about your press conference though."

Argus' ears folded back for a moment. "What about it?"

"You know what about it," Cedwyn growled back. "You trashed the Security Forces."

"I didn't 'trash' them," Argus responded with a sigh. "All I said was I had hired a private firm to deal with this, and that I would be contracting private security to provide additional defense for all of Space Dynamics's interplanetary shipping from now on."

Leaning back in his chair Cedwyn glared at him. "So, in other words, you said they were useless and unreliable."

"I suppose I did. In a way." Argus frowned. "The hell was I supposed to say though? They screwed up here Cedwyn. Big time. And it's going to cost my company a fortune. Not just in money either, but in reputation and standing. Forgive me if I can't help but feel a lack of confidence in them."

"You were supposed to say that you were cooperating fully, and that you had every confidence in their abilities," Cedwyn replied, glowering.

"But I'm not and I don't," Argus replied, straightening in his seat and setting his ears in a way that showed he wouldn't back down. "For an agency with as few resources as they've been given, I don't see why anyone would have much confidence in them."

That seemed to get Cedwyn's attention. "They got their budget cut last year."

"Did they?" Argus arched an eyebrow. "Poor them."

Cedwyn smiled then, looking at the fennec across the desk at him. "Argus. You don't seem to understand. They got their budget cut _last_ year. Who was the Prime Minister last year?"

"Constand." Argus could see wheels turning in Cedwyn's head.

"And who makes the budget?"

"The Federation Council. In consultation with the President and the Prime Minister. And usually based on the majority party's priorities, unless we have a coalition government." Argus began to see why Cedwyn's eyes were lighting up with glee.

"Exactly. And, one more question. Who signs that budget into law?"

This time Argus started to smile. "The President."

"Ex-actly!" Cedwyn sprung from his chair and bounded around his desk. "Argus, would you be willing to do something for me?"

Looking up at the excited snow leopard, Argus shrugged and said, "Depends on what it is."

"I'll book you any show you want, if you'll go on it and say that you think the Security Forces came up short because of the budget hit they took under Farris's administration." Cedwyn's tail lashed behind him in excitement.

"I'm a bit...busy." Argus hated publicity. He much preferred to remain out of the public spotlight.

Cedwyn's face darkened. "Argus. I don't have to remind you what committee I'm on, do I?"

Argus stood up and stared into the snow leopard's eyes. "No. You don't. Call my secretary with the details, and I'll make the time. Deal?"

"Deal!" Cedwyn's grin returned and he shook Argu's hand, placing his other on the fennec's shoulder. "You're doing a great thing for me. And for the Federation."

"Sure Ced. Sure." Argus rolled his eyes. "I assume you give that intimidation look to anyone who gets in your way."

Cedwyn blushed. "Sorry about that. I uh..."

Argus shook his head and slapped his friend on the arm. "Don't apologize. You're good at what you do, and you get things done. And, well, you're a politician, which means you're a spoiled brat," Argus said with a wink.

"Too true. Do you have a few minutes before you have to go?" Cedwyn asked.

"A few." Argus started taking his seat, but Cedwyn stopped him.

"No no. Couches. And have a drink. I met this woman I'd love to tell you about..."


	12. Unorthodox Velocities

**Chapter Twelve**

 _ **Unorthodox Velocities**_

Beta Colony stank. Upon exiting the train and making their way out into the colony proper, that had been the first thing Vixy noticed. It hadn't taken long to determine the cause either. Strewn across the streets and piled up in front of doors and in dumpsters hidden in deep, dark alleyways, were the collected waste products produced by any civilized society. Rotting food, tattered clothing no longer worth repairing, broken electronics. Everything that a society shipped to a waste disposal site, to either be disposed of or recycled into something new, was sitting on the streets of Beta Colony, lending the place a rotting stink to go along with its otherwise decrepit visuals.

It was dark, too. Street lights flickered where they worked at all, and windows showed only the dim outlines of yellow light, the shutters, blinds, and other coverings pulled fast. Many of the windows had metal bars over them too, a response to the thieving and crime common in places where society had begun to collapse. Of course, those were the windows that weren't already broken, or so covered in grime that they no longer qualified as transparent. Looking around at the forbidding surfaces of the concrete and sheet metal buildings, Vixy tightened her grasp on the grip of her EP-37, feeling a bit safer in the knowledge that she was armed and trained to defend herself.

There weren't many people out and about at night around here, though Vixy spotted a few street walkers. She also noticed that they seemed to have eyes for James. She watched in fascination as he ignored them, not even sparing them a second glance. His first glance, she also noted, seemed entirely devoted to determining if they were armed or otherwise dangerous. _I've never seen him on a mission like this. It's...impressive._

The walk through the residential district led them to the warehousing areas, and finally to a series of abandoned hangar bays. This area looked even more rundown than the residential areas, but it did have one thing going for it: it didn't have a lot of uncollected garbage. It smelled more like the faint remnants of reactor fuel cells and chemical lubricants. Though, the presence of either of those scents in detectable strengths tipped Vixy off to the fact that this area wasn't nearly as abandoned as it looked.

James stopped at the end of the sidewalk they were on and motioned for them to do the same. He turned around and pointed to the scanner he was holding, keeping it out of sight of anyone passing by. Vixy had noted several people on the streets around here, all dressed like ruffians, and all of them openly carrying weapons. No one had bothered them, and Vixy suspected that in a black market haven like this, people didn't talk to you unless you talked to them. No one wanted to draw attention to themselves, and pointing out a stranger would just get you involved in someone else's business. "See the hangar one block down?" James asked. Vixy peered over his shoulder and then nodded with the rest of the team. "Our boy is in there."

"Alright, so we do go in and get him?" Vixy asked.

Peppy snorted. "And do what? Get shot full of plasma bolts?"

"Someone's snarky," Vixy muttered, shooting a glare at Peppy. Peppy frowned and looked apologetic. _He's on edge. And probably not totally comfortable with me being here. This is my first time doing anything like this._

"First I want to get a good look at the place," James told them, glancing at Peppy with an admonishing look.

"How?" Archer asked. "I don't think they'll let us just walk around the place."

"Do you think you could tune the scanner to pick out the lifesigns in that building? Number of people, that sort of thing?" James asked Archer.

"Sure. Simple enough. But like I said, I don't think they'll let us go up to the place and do it."

"I mean from about this distance?" James clarified.

"Oh." Archer looked considerate for a moment. "I think so. It might take me a moment, but I should be able to."

Vixy had seen the kind of scanners they were using. They weren't fancy. Federation Intelligence had been willing enough to provide them with transport and a cover story, but loaning out agency equipment to freelancers with no real established track record had been farther than they were willing to go. As such, they were stuck with their own somewhat underpowered equipment. The EP-37's would be just fine, but their scanners and such were barely above civilian grade.

"Good." James looked around, then waved his scanner along the wall of the building they were standing next to. He smiled. "No one's home." Then he looked up. "That roof. Think it'd make a good vantage point?"

"Yeah. We'll have clear vision of the hangar," Vixy said, looking upwards. "How are we gonna get up there though?"

"There's a fire escape," Peppy replied, pointing.

James smiled. "Perfect. Let's just..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Instead he was cut off by the sound of alarms blaring. Vixy plastered her ears back against her skull and said over the noise, "What the hell is that?"

No one answered. They were too concerned with a new series of noises overpowering the alarms. One was the sound of blaster fire. It was coming from all around them, and Vixy yipped as a bolt of superheated plasma pinged against the wall next to her, warming the fur on her face. "Down!" Before she knew what was happening Peppy had pushed her to the ground and was firing his EP-37 in the direction of the bolt that had nearly taken her head off.

"Get off me!" Vixy grunted. Peppy shifted, and Vixy scrambled out from underneath him, pulling her own pistol out and running, bent over, to the cover of a nearby storage container. She slid behind it, plasma bolts pinging against its metal surface. James came to a stop beside her, taking cover behind the same container. "Who are these guys? And what the hell is that alarm?"

James peeked out over the container and squeezed off a shot. Vixy noticed from the slightly higher and more electrified pitch that he was using the stun setting. "Corporate security, judging by the uniforms. As for the alarm? I think we just stumbled our way into a crackdown."

"A crackdown? Of all the rotten fucking luck," Vixy grumbled, checking to make sure her weapon was on stun before poking her own head out and taking a potshot at an armored canine. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his wounded leg. Vixy got her head behind the container before another plasma bolt struck the asphalt next to her. Little glowing chunks of pavement spewed into the air, and she wrinkled her nose at the acrid smell. "They do know we aren't black marketeers, right?"

"Probably not, no." James was firing again. "And I'm not going to tell them."

"Why not?" Vixy asked as he ducked back, taking the opportunity to return some fire of her own.

"Because then all the criminals around here will know we're not one of them, and we'll be fighting both sides," James replied, grimacing as he looked over at Peppy. The hare had taken cover in a recessed doorway. "Where's Archer?"

"I don't know." Vixy started scanning, and found him crouching behind the wall surrounding a chained off entrance to the Beta subway. "There!" She pointed and waved. He waved back. "How many of them are there?"

"I counted about four. We're evenly matched." James shook his head. "Of course, as long as we're stuck fighting these guys, we're not retrieving the Arwing."

"One thing at a time," Vixy advised. More plasma fire slapped against the metal container they were hiding behind. Too much, and the metal would begin to overheat, forcing them from their cover. Vixy took a few more shots, trying to gauge where their enemy was, and if they had anymore backup on the way. "You wouldn't happen to have a stun grenade, would you?"

"Yes actually," James answered. "Why?"

Vixy held out her hand and said, "Give it."

To his credit James didn't so much as hesitate. He unhooked the metal cylinder from his belt and handed it to her. "Now, I need to ask you to do something a little stupid."

"Name it."

"Break cover and run to those barrels over there," Vixy told him, pointing to a stack of metal drum barrels. "I need you to draw their fire so I can toss this."

"Got it. Say when."

Vixy nodded, pulled the arming device, and said, "When!"

James took off at a breakneck pace, bent over and firing as he ran. Vixy stood up, cocked her arm back, and threw the stun grenade towards the deployable cover the Crespo goons were using. As soon as the grenade was out of her hand she took cover again, looking to see if James had made it. He had. He was panting and out of breath, but looked otherwise no worse for wear. Then, with a bang and a flash of light, the stun grenade went off. Vixy did a five count, then stood up, pistol aimed towards the detonation point. Peppy and Archer rushed for it when there was no hostile fire forthcoming. Vixy saw Archer scanning the bodies. He looked up and held up his hand, thumb and forefinger together, other three fingers raised, the signal for "OK".

Vixy breathed a silent sigh of relief, but her ears told her that gunfights were continuing throughout the colony. _The frigate in orbit must have really spooked them. Probably the Marines and Navy people shore leaving didn't help either,_ she thought, recalling the number of military personnel they'd seen in the bars last night.

"That frigate must have really spooked Crespo," Peppy said, joining her and James, Archer following behind him, keeping an eye on the other side of the road.

"Just what I was thinking," Vixy said.

"Doesn't matter. Our objective hasn't changed. We need to..." James was, once again, cut off mid sentence.

Vixy and the others spun around at the crashing, booming sound of a roof falling in behind them. No. Not falling in. Being blown out. The hangar bay they'd been getting ready to storm when Crespo Security had crashed their party didn't look like a hangar bay anymore. Instead it looked like a flaming pile of sheet metal and broken glass. And out of the flames, rising, fittingly, like a phoenix from the ashes, was a dropship, its shield barrier flaring in an oval shaped bubble around it, protecting it from the heat and flames. "You've gotta be kidding me," Vixy breathed.

Hooked onto the tail of the dropship, hanging by magnetic clamps, was the Arwing. "Peppy?"

"Yeah James?"

Vixy held up a hand to protect her face as the dropship gunned its engines and took off in the direction of Beta Colony's old, little used spaceport.

"Call Jackson and tell him to get the frigate on the horn." James shook his head and turned to his team. Vixy could see the angry, defeated look in his eyes. "It's up to the Defense Force now."

* * *

Paul Whitefur was just sitting down to dinner in the captain's mess when the comm panel beeped. Sighing he stood up, giving his Chief Medical Officer, Bella Claireaux, who he'd invited to dine with him tonight, an apologetic look. Bella, a shiba inu, gave him a perky smile and a dismissive hand wave. Tapping the response key, he said, "Whitefur."

 _"Captain, can you please come to the bridge? Something's going on down on BR-558."_

The voice, belonging to Erika Henderson, his first officer, came through the panel clear and calm, but with an unmistakable note of urgency. "On my way." Paul looked at Bella and said, "I'm afraid dinner will have the be cut short. I do apologize."

Bella stood up and smiled. "No need to. If something's going on I had best head to sickbay anyway. Tomorrow night?"

"Of course." Paul opened the door and ushered her out first. He made his way through the crew mess, nodding and smiling, but not stopping for anyone. It was a short walk from there to a nearby turbolift, and then to the command deck. When the turbolift doors sighed open Paul took quick stock of the bridge. The tension level was higher than when he'd left for dinner at the end of his shift. Erika, who would normally have been off duty at the same time he was, had volunteered along with the rest of the senior staff for an extra shift so as many crew and junior officers could enjoy a bit of shore leave as possible.

Striding onto the bridge Paul nodded to his first officer as the red feathered cardinal stood up, vacating the command chair. Paul sat down as Erika took her seat next to him, flipping open the control panel on his right armrest and logging himself in as on watch. "What's the situation?" he asked.

"We picked up a sharp increase in comm use on Crespo frequencies about half an hour ago," Erika explained, handing him a padd.

Paul looked it over, scrolling through the raw data and the analysis provided by both the ship's computer and the communications officer. "I assume it's not someone ordering groceries?"

"No. The band their using is encrypted and it looks to be military," Erika said. "We're still not quite certain..."

"Captain!" The deep, resounding voice of Lieutenant Brandon Carlyle, the bulldog tactical officer, boomed across the bridge from his position at the tactical station.

"Yes Mr. Carlyle?" Paul looked over, eyebrows raised.

"Weapons fire detected, sir. Beta Colony. Lots of it," Carlyle informed him.

Paul turned to the comm officer. "Ensign. Get me Mr. Figaro. And barring him someone higher up the food chain."

"Yes sir."

"What do you think it is, sir?" Erika asked, keeping her voice low.

"Sir? I have Mr. Figaro."

"I suspect we're about to find out, Commander." Glancing at the ensign manning the comm station he said, "On screen."

The main viewing screen, which had been displaying the stars and small asteroids of this sector of Meteo, as well as the pockmarked and developed surface of BR-558, shimmered and then changed to an image of Allen Figaro, in his office, a bit of color on his simian cheeks. "Captain, is there something I can help you with?"

Paul gave him a quick smile and said, "Actually I was calling to see if there's something we can help _you_ with."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Figaro said, his cheeks turning slightly redder.

Paul heard Erika snort next to him. He gave her a subtle look to maintain all decorum, and then said to the screen, "Really? It's just that there seems to be a bit of a...fracas going on in your Beta Colony. Is someone giving you trouble?"

Figaro pursed his lips and glanced downward for a moment. Paul waited. "We are in the middle of a...routine security sweep of our Beta Colony at the moment Captain. I assure you there's nothing to worry about."

"Indeed." Paul's smile vanished, replaced by a frown, his eyes dead serious. "Do your 'routine' security sweeps usually involve intense firefights?"

Once more Figaro pursed his lips and looked down at his hands where they sat clasped on his desk. When he refocused himself on the camera he said, "As I am certain you are aware there are criminal elements that have made a home for themselves in Beta Colony. They at times put up a bit of...resistance to our attempts to enforce law and order."

"I see." Paul nodded. "I'm sure I don't have to remind you that the Federation looks very unkindly towards these kinds of violent crackdowns."

Figaro tensed. "This is hardly a violent crackdown. I can attest that any firefights being engaged in by officers of Crespo Security are entirely in self-defense. And they will be conducted with weapons set to the stun setting, of course. We have no desire to kill anyone."

Paul glanced at Carlyle. The bulldog tapped a few buttons, then shook his head with a shrug. _No way to tell from this distance. We're on the opposite side from Beta. And trying to determine specific energy settings on plasma or particle weapons is damn near impossible with sensors even on the ground._ Looking back to Figaro, Paul said, "Very well. We will be monitoring this 'routine sweep' from up here."

"Of course. You're personnel down here though, on shore leave..."

"What about them?" Paul asked.

"Would you like to withdraw them?" Figaro said.

Paul glacned at Erika, the two of them both coming to the same silent conclusion. The crackdown was a response to Crespo believing they had the Federation looking over their shoulder. "I assume your security forces are capable of keeping the violence contained to Beta Colony."

Figaro straightened and looked indignant. _Gotcha._ Paul thought to himself. "I assure you, they are more than capable of that."

"Then I see no reason not to allow my crew to continue enjoying a well deserved rest. Do let us know however if there's anything we can do to lend assistance." Figaro shook his head. "Very well. A pleasure speaking to you as always Mr. Figaro." Paul looked to the comm officer and made a slashing motion with his hand. The connection cut a second later.

Erika huffed beside him. "If Command had known all Crespo needed was a frigate to drop by unannounced..."

"Mmm." Paul nodded.

"Sir?"

"Yes Mr. Carlyle?"

"There's an unidentified ship emerging from the Beta Colony spaceport," the bulldog reported. "It matches the classification of a known pirate vessel."

"Ah. Crespo has flushed a bit of game from the weeds." Paul smiled and was about to give the order to intercept when the comm officer interrupted him.

"Sir. I have an incoming transmission from BR-558."

"Figaro?"

"Negative. It's on an encrypted channel. Federation Intelligence." That got everyone's attention. The comm officer's eyes widened and her feline tail fuzzed a bit in surprise. "Sir, they say the Arwing is onboard that ship!"

* * *

It was a bit of a rough ride, but thus far no one had started shooting at them. That wouldn't last long though, Cadman knew. There was a Federation frigate in orbit above BR-558, and it wouldn't take a genius to notice what was going on. _And if there's anything Feds enjoy doing it's chasing down pirates._

With a bump the dropship's motion came to a stop. The status light by the deployment hatch turned from red to green, and the ramp started lowering with the whine and hiss of hydraulics. Cadman unbuckled himself and stood up. Crew hustled past him, and Cadman could smell the sweat and stress wafting off of each of them. Shea climbed down from the cockpit, Dylan following her, and said to Cadman, "Come to the bridge."

Cadman followed her, noting the irritated look Dylan cast his way. The maned wolf didn't seem to like the boss warming up to someone from the outside. It could have been for personal reasons on Dylan's part, but for the moment Cadman was more than willing to put it down to the sort of mild paranoia almost all criminals lived with. In point of fact, Cadman would have been more concerned if Dylan, as Shea's right hand man, hadn't been concerned on some level about his presence.

As they made their way to the bank of turbolifts at the other end of the hangar bay, Cadman took stock of the brightly lit, cavernous space. The smell of machine lubricant and synthetic materials permeated the air, with the tangy odor of exertion mixed in. Crates of spareparts and excess cargo lined the walls, and ramps and metal stairways led to the second level gantries and catwalks.

Cadman also noted the presence of about half a dozen Troidem-class fighters, a newer class of sturdy raider ships, crewed by a pilot and a gunner. Their presence on the ship indicated to Cadman that Shea had money to burn, and was smart enough to invest that money in hardware that would not only get the job done, but also cost little in terms of maintenance. Troidems weren't flashy, and in fact they could be downright ugly with their gunmetal, rectangular fuselages and fixed wing configuration. The beauty of them came in their level of firepower, allowing them to go up against patrol ships and heavily armed freighters, and the fact that they were highly customizable, their parts able to be interchanged with just about anything you could find on the market, making repairs and modifications a sinch.

Stepping into the turbolift, Cadman directed his attention to Shea. Dylan was speaking into his communicator, relaying orders to the various section heads and getting confirmation that they were ready to warp at a moment's notice. Their exit from the Beta Colony spaceport hadn't been subtle. "So, does this ship have a name?"

Shea glanced at him and nodded. " _Orpheon_."

"Interesting." Cadman nodded back. The name had a familiar, but still otherworldly ring to it.

The lift doors opened and the three of them walked onto the bridge. It was surprisingly spacious. Cadman glanced around, noting the composition of the crew. A good mix of species. All of them with the rough and tumble look of career pirates and professional mercenaries. Control consoles being manned by the crew all looked to be in good repair, though with plenty of scuffing and fingerprints to indicate frequent use. Beyond the consoles though Cadman saw that the main viewscreen was actually a large, wrap around window made of transparent aluminum. Holograms flitted to-and-fro within it, providing general status updates and enhanced visuals.

Cadman took up a position in the back of the bridge, making sure to stay out of everyone's way and simply observe. Shea took the center seat, Dylan standing like a watchful sentinel behind her. At her presence all the crew sat a little straighter, and the hushed conversations took on a more clipped and urgent tone. _She runs a tight ship then._

"Cap'n! That frigate is closing on us."

"On visual," Shea ordered.

A holoscreen slid into place directly in Shea's line of sight, displaying the image of a Federation Ceres-class frigate.

The Ceres-class, with its boxy, silver appearance, and three oversized engine pods, were Federation workhorses that, though slightly underpowered, were more than a match for most pirate vessels. Cadman had a feeling the _Orpheon_ could handle itself against one, but he knew better than to underestimate an opponent. Ceres-class vessels had done miraculous things in the past against raiders who thought they had them outgunned and outmaneuvered.

"They're hailing us," the comm officer reported. "Should I put them on?"

"Do it," Shea said.

 _Interesting._ Cadman had been expecting her to ignore the hail.

The image of the frigate was replaced by that of an arctic fox. He looked young, a lot younger than Cadman had been expecting. Either this commander was extraordinarily talented, or extremely well connected. When the fox spoke, his voice issuing forth in a clipped, upper-class Grantham accent, Cadman immediately marked him down as well connected, though potentially still skilled. Grantham Brahmins had a long tradition of military service, and sometimes skill and dedication did make it down through the bloodlines.

" _This is Captain Paul Whitefur of the L.F.S.C. Clad in Amber. I advise you to stop your engines and power down your weapons immediately."_

"Or else what pup?" Shea replied, leaning back in her seat. Cadman noted that one of her hands strayed casually to the control pad on her chair, and her fingers danced across the touch screen in subtle, almost undetectable movements.

If the reference to his age bothered him at all Whitefur didn't show it. _"Or else I'll blow you out of the stars."_

"Odd. I was under the impression that the Federation believed in bringing criminals like me to justice," Shea said, her fingers no longer tapping. "What happened to a trial by a jury of my peers?"

Whitefur shook his head. _"You know as well as I do that the Federation has no jurisdiction here. I'm contacting you at the request of Crespo Mining Industries, and I'm afraid they take far less kindly to you and your ilk."_

"Corporate sell out. I see." Shea nodded in understanding. "Well Captain, if you want to catch me and blow me out of the stars, I suggest you do it quickly." With that she made a cutting motion across her throat to the comm officer. The connection went dead. "Hang on everyone. This is going to be a little rough."

Cadman arched an eyebrow, grabbing hold of a handlebar on the wall near him. The deck plating beneath his boots began to shudder, and a low thrumming noise assaulted his ears, making him pin them back. Then he felt his stomach drop and a wave of gravity pull him backward and downwards. He held onto the bar and managed to weather the sudden force. Looking out the viewport he could see the subtle distortion of the starifield that indicated they were now at warp, viewing reality from the safe, stable confines of a warp bubble. Ordinarily the ship's I-diffusers would have prevented even the slightest notice of the change in their relativistic state, but what Shea had done was...unorthodox.

The snow leopard stood up and made her way over to him. Looking up at him she said, "We'll be out of their sensor range soon at our current velocity." Of course, velocity was a somewhat deceiving term. The ship, ensconced in its warp bubble, wasn't actually moving at all, but rather was 'warping' the fabric of space and time around them. The logistics of it went well beyond Cadman's expertise, but what he did know, from his high school physics class, was that warp drive didn't so much break the previously agreed upon laws of physics, so much as it cheated around them. "Once that's done, I'd like to know where we're going."

Cadman nodded. "Ballsy move, doing that inside the solar system." Going to warp while still in the grip of star or a planet's gravity wasn't anything unheard of, but was still recommended against. In a place as heavily trafficked as Lylat, the potential for a collision or other encounter with a navigational hazard was great enough that civilian ships were required to reach a warp point at the edge of the system before making their jump. Military vessels could jump outside of a warp point, but only under extreme circumstances. Of course, that being said, it had likely been the last thing that the Federation ship and its crew had been anticipating. "Should we expect pursuit?"

"We activated warp bafflers the moment we jumped. They can't track our course," Shea replied. "Getting out of sensor range is me being cautious. Now, where are we dropping this Arwing?"

 _She's good._ Cadman smiled. "Eladard."

* * *

A/N: I thought now would be a good time for a slightly larger author's note. Next chapter is going to see the return of a few characters introduced before the BR-558 arc, and will mark the beginning of the final arc of the story. For those who are enjoying the story, fear not, we've got more than a few chapters left to go. And, for those with an appreciation for world building, and being immersed in a universe and a story, we'll have plenty of succulent, if perhaps not totally necessary, details coming for not just Eladard, but another world fans of Lylat should be familiar with.

See you next week!

-general whitefur


	13. Brave New World

**Chapter Thirteen**

 **Brave New World**

 _ **One Week Later...**_

Lupus had never been to Zoness. He had heard of it of course. It was one of the most popular vacation spots in all of Lylat. It attracted visitors from every part of the Federation and beyond. Lupus could remember seeing the posters advertising the tropical resorts, with their warm air and cool ocean breezes, and mixed drinks strong enough to curl paint, and sweet enough to make a candy shop owner queasy.

One thing he'd not been expecting though was the humidity. The moment they left the spaceport and walked out under the open sky, Lupus could feel sweat pooling under his arms and on his chest. His fur would be soaked before long. His tongue hung out, his breath panting and trying to keep his body temperature at a reasonable level. "I thought Macbeth was hot," he said, shouldering his duffle bag and glancing around the parking lot.

"Macbeth is a dry, regulated heat," came a deep, rumbling voice from behind him. "You'll get used to this."

Lupus turned and looked at Cadman Dane, their handler for this mission. Lupus had bristled at first when informed that they would have someone looking over their shoulder. He'd been insulted that their mysterious employer didn't trust them, and had taken umbrage to the implication that they couldn't handle the job on their own. Then Sarah had reminded him that anyone as mysterious as their actual employer probably didn't trust anyone, and that they wouldn't have gotten the job if whoever it was didn't think they could handle it. _Not that Cadman or his boss have told us anything. They've been oddly mysterious about what it is we're doing._ "I guess I'll have to."

Cadman chuckled and told them to follow him to the parking lot. Lupus took a look around. People were hustling and bustling, families abounded, small children sucking on popsicles they'd gotten inside the spaceport as their parents corralled them into waiting cabs. He felt a brief stab of bitterness at how happy the children looked, and how affectionate and patient their parents seemed. _I never got anything like that._

A weight settled on his shoulders, and Lupus felt all those bitter and unfair thoughts drift away with the wind. Jax leaned over and kissed him between the ears, holding him tight and reminding him that if he hadn't gotten much love as a child, he had more than he knew what to do with in his adulthood.

The group stopped when they reached a parked SUV. It didn't look like much, just a standard 2-OSK model made by Cornerian Auto Works. CAW was one of the largest car manufacturers in Lylat, competing fiercely with the Macbeth based Convoy Motors. The rivalry had reached such epic proportions in recent years that entire movies and TV dramas were devoted to the battle as the two mega corporations duked it out for market share. Of course, most of those dramas had substantially more sex and violence, and far fewer corporate board meetings and dull, cheap, advertisements. "Do we have to drive this?" Jax asked, glancing at the circular CAW logo on the back.

Tapping in the code on the small holographic panel on the driver's side window, Cadman pulled the door open and said gruffly, "Unless you wanna walk."

Lupus nudged Jax forward, the two of them plus Sarah piling in. Macbethan natives tended to have a low opinion of anything manufactured outside of their home planet, a byproduct of having an economy that relied on making things to a standard unmatched just about anywhere else in the galaxy. The rivalry between CAW and CM was about more than just stock prices and sales, it also tapped into the pride and competitive spirit exhibited by the Cornerian and Macbethan employees who ran and maintained the machines that worked the assembly lines.

Cadman keyed the ignition and the hydrogen fuel cell engine hummed to life. The air conditioning came on as well, blasting frigid air to compensate for the glow of Lylat and Solar overhead.

As they left the parking lot and began the drive to the place where they would be staying, Lupus looked out the window, admiring the scenery as it flashed by along the road. Despite the heat, Lupus could understand why people came here. The lush vegetation, the clear skies, and the snowcapped mountains in the distance were breathtaking.

Other than the natural surroundings, with the trees and ferns and wild animals that, on Macbeth, existed only in the closed off, delicate cave ecosystems, and the arboretums reserved for the very wealthy, Lupus could also see tall, glimmering skyscrapers rising in the distance. A bit too tall now that he looked at them. They seemed to stretch on forever. He could also see bridges and skyways connecting them. "Are those..."

"Arcologies," Cadman answered. "Zoness, outside the beach resorts and a few upper class towns, doesn't have much in the way of urban sprawl. If you think the Cornerians are crazy environmentalists, you've never met a Zonessian."

Lupus nodded, staring at the distant buildings in wonder. Made of clear, glimmering glass and metal, they were built in a pyramidal shape, with three 'arms' each reaching up and connecting at the apex, where solar collectors glinted as they caught the rays of Lylat's twin stars. As they drove closer Lupus could see that there were four of them, all linked by a series of sky bridges and elevated railways. "How many people live in that city?" Lupus asked.

Sarah, looking down at her tablet, pulled up the information. "All told? Those four arcologies are home to eight million people."

Jax let out an explosive breath. "Four buildings and eight million people?

"Amazing." Lupus shook his head. "Where will we be staying?"

"One of the lower levels." Cadman pointed to one of the arcologies. "The Zitza Arcology. We'll be on level fourteen."

"I thought you said we'd be on one of the lower levels," Jax said, arching an eyebrow.

"That's fourteen out of fourteen hundred. Trust me, it's basically the bottom." Cadman turned onto a main road, increasing speed.

The road was packed with cars of all different makes and models. Lupus found these almost as fascinating as the arcologies in the distance. Macbeth may have made tens of millions of automobiles a year, but about ninety percent of those were exported. Since the domes were the only places liveable, and since much of the population lived underground at this point, Macbethans rarely ever found a reason to own a car. The domes all had highly advanced transit systems, with everything from subways, trains, and large elevators, to moving sidewalks in the more wealthy districts. No one drove on Macbeth, unless you were wealthy and had the money to burn. Here though, it seemed like just about everyone could own a car. "If they mostly live in arcologies, why do so many people need cars?" Lupus asked.

"Travel between arcology clusters, out to resorts, campgrounds," Cadman said. "When living under the sun isn't going to kill you people tend to get out more."

"Huh." Lupus glanced at Jax, not bothering to correct Cadman and say that going outside the domes on Macbeth wouldn't necessarily kill you, just make life even more difficult and uncomfortable. "I say we move here."

Jax chuckled. "Sure. Though you'll probably say that about any planet that isn't Macbeth."

"Probably." Lupus chuckled back and continued looking out the window. He'd finally done it. He'd gotten off Macbeth. He'd left behind that hellish landscape with even more hellish memories. _Now the real work can finally begin. I've got plans. And as soon as we're done with this job, it'll be time to show the galaxy just who Lupus O'Donnell really is._

Level fourteen of the Zitza Arcology looked a hell of a lot better than level fourteen of Numanchester. Here, despite being one of the lowest and poorest levels, the streets were clear of obstacles and garbage, the city services were functioning, and the buildings all looked cleaned and well maintained. "I'm sorry, this is the poorer level?" Sarah whispered softly. She could see stores and small businesses, restaurants, donut shops, and people walking around with smiles and carefree attitudes. It all looked...nice. Happy. As if these people weren't poor at all, as if they weren't making choices and compromises just to survive. _Maybe they...aren't?_

In Numanchester, people living in the bottom levels simply didn't look like this. They didn't walk around smiling, they didn't walk around eating ice cream cones and laughing with their friends. They didn't come out of supermarkets with arms full of groceries. No. They kept their heads down and tried not to be noticed. They walked out of stores with just enough food to not go to bed hungry. And they certainly didn't spend valuable money on things like sweets since...well, they didn't have money to spend on sweets. They needed to scrimp and save every spare coin just in case the landlord jacked up the rent again or, in most cases, to buy a case of liquor and drown their sorrows. The Federation took it as a point of pride, Sarah knew, that people didn't starve inside its borders. And, while that was certainly true, sometimes Sarah thought the fact that everyone could survive might have been more of a curse than a blessing for the people she'd grown up around.

"Strange, isn't it?" Cadman said. "The definition of poverty changes depending on the world. Corneria and Zoness are two of the wealthiest worlds in Lylat, probably in the galaxy. Standard of living on both of them is nearly post-scarcity. If you lived like this on Macbeth, you'd be well off."

Sarah stared in wonder. How in the world did people live like this? Not that she didn't want to live like this but...she didn't think it was possible for more than a few people in a society to have such ready access to much more than their basic needs. It almost didn't seem fair that Zonessians lived like this. Then again, maybe it wasn't the Zonessians way of life that was unfair, but rather the way she had been forced to live on Macbeth that was.

"You alright sis?" Lupus asked, brushing his tail up against hers.

"Yeah, just kinda...disoriented."

"It is weird, isn't it? I didn't expect the people on the lower levels to be living like this," Lupus admitted.

"I wonder if they're as ignorant about how we live as were about how they did?" Jax muttered. "If people in my neighborhood saw this, there'd be riots."

Sarah caught Cadman giving them all a bemused glance. "What?"

"You're all a lot more philosophical than I thought you would be," Cadman said, stopping in front of a lift. "We're going up to the residential tier. I've got an apartment there. You'll like it."

There was a line for the lift, but it moved quickly. Once their turn came Sarah and the rest followed Cadman in, along with about a dozen other people. The lift doors shut when the room filled to capacity, and Sarah didn't even notice when it kicked into motion. _How?_

"E-diffusers. Less powerful than I-diffusers, but they're common for things like this. Arcology lifts move very, very fast," Cadman supplied, noticing the confused look on her face.

The lift doors opened and Cadman led them out. Sarah glanced back at the lift as the doors closed, another group of passengers having piled aboard. She didn't hear a sound when it started moving.

When they reached Cadman's apartment the canine tapped in a security code and the entrance unlocked. Sarah followed him in and shook her head. "I don't get this place."

Next to her, Lupus seemed to be having no problem with the adjustment. Grinning from ear to ear he plopped himself down on one of the soft couches and put his feet up on the coffee table. Sunlight streamed in from a sliding glass door leading to a small balcony. A ceiling fan whirred into motion at the flick of a switch, and vents pumped in cool, conditioned air. A flat screen TV occupied one wall of the room. A kitchen took up space on the other side. Sarah decided to investigate it.

Clean counters. Glassware and ceramic dishes, not cheap plastic like should would have found on Macbeth. The pantry was stocked with food and canned goods, and the refrigerator had fresh vegetables. There were even fruits in a little basket on the counter. "Help yourself," Cadman said, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a cold water bottle.

Sarah reached out and grabbed a banana. She peeled it and took a bite. Her mouth watered and stars exploded across her vision at the taste. Sweet and ripe. It tasted as if it had just come off the tree. "Oh my..."

Jax walked over and arched an eyebrow at her, grabbing an apple from the basket. Cadman glanced at her as he set down the water bottle and pulled out a cigarette. He lit it, sucked in a breath of smoke, and then exhaled before saying, "Bananas are the local specialty."

"I can believe it," Sarah mumbled, chomping down on it eagerly before reaching for another. When she'd been a child she'd only ever had bananas when she could steal them. She remembered how much she'd loved them, and how she'd begged her father to buy her some whenever he went shopping. When she was a child he'd always ignored her, yelling at her that they were too expensive and she didn't need to eat like some rich corporate suit. Then, after she'd turned fourteen and begun to...fill out... _No. I will not let him ruin this for me. He's dead. I won't let him ruin even the simple pleasures in my life. He already ruined so many of the others..._

Sarah finished the second fruit with a defiant expression on her face, then sat down next to Lupus. Her brother gave her a concerned look. She knew he'd seen the change in her expression when the memory had surfaced. "I'm fine," she whispered to him.

Lupus nodded, patting her on the knee and giving her that loving, loyal glance that told her everything that mattered most about her brother. Cadman walked over and sat down in a chair across from them, still puffing on his cigarette. Sarah's nose twitched at the scent of the smoke. She resisted the urge to sneeze. "It's been a long flight," Cadman said. "Clean up and get some rest. It'll be night here soon, so we'll discuss the mission in the morning." He stood up, putting his smoke out in the ashtray on the coffee table. "The apartment is yours."

"Where are you going?" Lupus asked.

"I have a few appointments I need to make. Preparation for the mission. I'll be back before you wake up," Cadman assured them.

"Alright," Lupus said. "If we need to contact you?"

"You won't," Cadman said, already heading for the door. He turned and gave them a smile. "Trust me, this apartment is probably the safest place you've ever been inside of. See you in the morning."

Sarah watched the door close behind the dane, then leaned back against the couch and let out a sigh. "Mysterious, isn't he?"

Jax nodded from where he sat, perched on the edge of a stool by the kitchen counter. "Do we trust him?"

"No. Of course not." Lupus shook his head. "But we need him. And he needs us. That much is obvious."

"Is it?" Sarah asked, cocking her head. "We still don't know what this job is. I'm frankly not even sure why we took it to begin with."

Lupus pursed his lips and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How much do we know about Lylat?"

"What do you mean?" Odd question coming from Lupus.

"I mean, how much do we know about the criminal underworld? Or the law enforcement we'll need to avoid?" Lupus said. "Not to mention the societies, their blind spots, their values. We never left Macbeth. Hell, we never left Numanchester."

Sarah began to see her brother's point. "We're fish out of water."

"Exactly." Lupus stood up and turned on the TV. "Newsfeed anyone?"

"Ugh." Jax shook his head. "Do I have to?"

"Consider it homework."

"I dropped out in the eighth grade," Jax said, crossing his arms and looking petulant.

"I'll make it worth it for you dear," Lupus promised, winking at the lion.

Sarah chuckled as Jax's expression lightened and he came over to sit next to Lupus. Standing up just as the two of them sat back down, Sarah said, "I'm going to take a shower and check out the restrooms. Have fun with your newsfeeds."

"Oh I'm having fun already," Lupus said, his gaze riveted to the screen.

Leaving the two of them to their homework, Sarah made her way deeper into the apartment. It was larger than she was expecting, though not huge. She found the bathroom in the hall and once again had to do a double take. It was more than just a closet with a sonic shower, toilet, and a sink with some basic toiletries. Opening the medicine cabinet she found toothbrushes, and toothpaste in six different flavors. Soap bars sat waiting to be unwrapped and used. And, sitting on the counter were bottles of shampoo in five different scents. Grabbing the one marked 'pear', she disrobed.

Before stepping into the shower she took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Like her brother, her body was covered in scars, marked by the bone white coloring of the fur where it had been forced to regrow. They crisscrossed her flanks, one of them running a jagged, zigzagging line across her right breast before stopping at her neck. Some of them she remembered getting, others were more of a blur. Tracing a finger through the scar fur from her neck across her breast, she cursed the name of the man who'd given it to her. A 'friend' of her father's who she'd been loaned to in exchange for forgetting about some minor transgression her father had committed. When she'd come home covered in bloody bandages her father hadn't spared her a second glance. It had been Lupus who snuck her out and got her to the neighborhood clinic, just as she'd done countless times for him after he'd been beaten. The scar, however, also held a certain level of satisfaction along with the horror. It had been on that night that she and Lupus had begun conspiring to kill their father. Sometimes Sarah wondered if they ever would have found the courage to get out from under his thumb were it not for that incident. _I don't want to think about this, so why do I always think about it?_

"Fuck." Sarah shook her head, running a hand through her violet colored hair before stepping into the shower. She hit the button to turn on the sonic waves and...nothing happened. "Huh?" Leaning down she realized that, had she been paying attention she would have noticed that the button she had tried to press wasn't a button at all. It was a knob. She turned it, then yipped in surprise as water spurted out of the nozzle above her head. On Macbeth, where the water supply came from underground aquifers and trade shipments, the precious, life giving liquid was at a premium. If you came from the economic strata that she had, you drank water and that was it. You didn't bathe in it, and you didn't swim in it. As the water flowed across her fur, running down her curves and soothing her scars, Sarah suddenly realized what she'd been missing.

Time became a non-factor and Sarah proceeded to lose track of how long she'd been in there. Steam rose from the bottom of the shower, enveloping her in a warm, foggy embrace she'd never experienced before. It felt soothing but alien. She didn't know quite what to make of it, other than that she enjoyed it and she didn't want to leave. Her legs started to get wobbly from the heat, but rather than turn down the water (she didn't know if she could) she sat down, leaning her back against the tile wall. Her eyes drifted shut and as she lay there, luxuriating. Part of her felt almost guilty, like she was taking something away from everyone else on this world. The other part of her though, the part that she let control her, figured she deserved it and that, quite honestly, if they had showers like this in the poor strata of their arcologies, water probably wasn't a problem to begin with. _Besides,_ she thought to herself with a smile, _I steal things from people all the time. Girl's gotta make a living._

"Sarah? You okay in there hon?"

Sarah's eyes drifted open at the sound of that familiar lisp. Smiling, her soggy tail wagging against the bottom of the shower, she said, "I'm fine. Why?"

"You've been in there almost an hour," Lupus said through the door, his voice still sounding concerned.

"What?" Sarah shook her head. "You're lying."

"Sis, it's been almost an hour, I swear," Lupus told her. "Are you sure you're okay? I don't want your teeth rattling out."

That caught Sarah's attention. _He doesn't realize._ "Come in and see for yourself," she told him.

The door opened without a second's hesitation. Sarah pulled the shower curtain aside and said, "What do you think?"

Lupus stepped up, eyes wide in wonder. "A water shower? They have those here? I thought..."

"Only rich people got water showers?" Sarah finished for him.

"Yeah." Lupus started pulling his shirt over his head. "Move over, I'm coming in."

Sarah shook her head. "There's not room enough for the two of us."

"Fine. Then you get out. Jax!" Lupus called over his shoulder, already down to his underwear.

Sarah rolled her eyes and stood up, stepping out and reaching for a towel to dry herself off. She assumed that's what the cloth things were for. She'd seen it in movies once or twice. "I told you there's not room enough for two."

Jax appeared in the doorway. "What?"

Lupus pulled off his shorts and stepped into the shower. "Water shower. Get in here. Now."

Jax looked disbelievingly at Sarah. The female lupine jerked her head in the direction of the shower. "I don't know how you'll fit..."

A hand appeared around the corner of the shower curtain, crooking its finger in a 'come hither' gesture. Jax smirked and said, "Oh I'm sure we'll find a way."

Sarah rolled her eyes and left the two boys to their fun while she returned to the living room. She kept the towel wrapped around herself as she sat down on one of the couches. It was leather, so she didn't need to worry about making a stain. Closing her eyes and resting her head on the back cushion she took a deep breath through her nose, and then out through her muzzle. E-diffusers. Fresh fruit. Water showers. _It's almost too much to believe,_ she thought to herself. Except it was real. It was all real. As she slipped into nap mode she sighed happily. Macbeth would soon be nothing but a memory. She'd escaped from the pit into a world of wonders she had only ever dreamed of. And, soon, she, her brother, and Jax would begin building their empire. An empire where every single one of those wonders would be theirs. _I just wonder what we'll call ourselves?_

There was another thought in her mind that came up as she had a moment to relax. Cadman Dane. He reminded her of her father. She didn't want to say anything. It would send Lupus into a spiral. But he had that same quality she'd seen in other men...the quality that told her he got what he wanted, and he didn't care how. It also meant she didn't trust him. _And he doesn't trust us. Which is a recipe for trouble._

Sarah stood up. She knocked on the bathroom door and called out, "I'm gonna go walk around a little."

There was a muffled moan, followed by something that sounded like an "OK". Sarah smiled and got dressed. Lupus and Jax would be in that thing when she came back, no doubt about it. Pulling on her boots she closed the apartment door behind her. Time to find out what this Cadman was all about. And then, decide what to do about him.


	14. Inconvenient Location

**Chapter Fourteen  
**

 _ **Inconvenient Location**_

"Eladard? What in blazes is it doing there?" Pepper looked at his aide with wide eyed astonishment.

"I don't know sir," the aide, a young bulldog, shook his head. "Intel is still working on that. But they wanted to let you know as soon as they had a location."

Pepper grunted. Military Intelligence was, in his opinion, one of the greatest oxymorons of the modern military establishment. Sometimes he doubted the analysts they employed knew the difference between an ass and elbow. "Thank you Bradson," Pepper said, looking at his aide. "Dismissed."

"Sir." Bradson snapped off a salute and then left the hound's office. The door clicked shut behind him.

Pepper stood up and walked over to the small, locked cabinet in his office. Taking the key from his pocket he turned it in the lock and pulled out a bottle of brownish liquid. If this report was accurate, and despite his feelings about Military Intelligence it probably was, things had just gotten a lot more complicated. Pouring himself two fingers of the aged whiskey, Pepper sat back down at his desk and took a sip, letting the burn travel down his throat, calming any emerging nerves. As his father had told him, the best thing to do when things got complicated was to sit back, pour yourself something, and think about it.

The Lylat Federation and the Eladardian Republic, despite sharing the same two suns, shared very little else in common. Eladard was ruled by corporations, with its civilian government little more than a front for powerful interests like the Marcross Consortium. The military wasn't much more independant, frequently finding itself in conflicts and deployments ostensibly related to Eladardian security, but more often linked to matters of debt collection and patent enforcement. _Which means, if it's on Eladard, the government can probably be counted out. Whoever is behind this will have kept them in the dark about it._

Pepper could think of more than a few organizations on Eladard that would enjoy getting their hands on the Arwing, from corporate groups and their political backers, to rebels and terrorists fighting against what they knew was a corrupt government. Eladardian allies of the Anglar Empire on Venom might, if they thought it in their interest, attempt a theft to then share the information with the Anglars, Eladard's primary ally. But, once again, that would imply that the Eladardian government had something to do with the theft, and it just didn't seem in character for them to do something like that on their own initiative. _Besides, the current Anglar Emperor is an isolationist, so I doubt he would want to get involved with something like this._

Business wise there was really only one viable candidate: Marcross Space Technologies. Eladard, if it had any true claim to fame, had it because of the technologies that MST had invented over the years. Their invention of the I-diffuser, centuries ago, had revolutionized space travel. It had unlocked speeds that made interplanetary travel a matter of days when it was first invented, and with refinements made since a ship could feasibly travel from Corneria to, say, Fortuna in a matter of hours. _Still though, they're the dominant force for military production for both Eladard and Venom. The Arwing wouldn't change that. Unless..._

The G-diffuser. It made sense as Pepper thought about it, taking another sip of his whiskey. That invention had the potential to not only revolutionize space manufacturing and travel, but also to relegate the I-diffuser to a single chapter in a history of engineering textbook. If Space Dynamics

proved that the G-diffuser truly worked, it would only be a matter of time before the company dominated the realm of space manufacturing. _Would they go that far though?_

Terrorist groups were one other possibility. Pepper could name a dozen offhand that would have wanted to try and pull something like this off. Wanting to and being able to, however, were two entirely different things. The only organization that might have had the capacity to do so was Simian Sunrise, but they were based on Fortuna, and had no known ties to anyone on Eladard. _Which leaves me with MST. And with the more basic problem: it's on Eladard._

Pepper rubbed his forehead in frustration. If it had been on a Federation world this all would have been so much simpler. BR-558, despite the debacle that had turned out to be, had been nothing in comparison to this situation. Crespo had been a Federation company, technically under the government's jurisdiction, even if it was made indirect by Meteo's neutrality. Eladard was its own sovereign planet. Any attempt at a military operation would come with severe diplomatic headaches, and would need to be signed off on by the President. _And considering we're in the middle of an election cycle that's giving him hell I doubt Farris will be interested in doing anything that would make his life any more difficult._

With a gulp Pepper finished his drink. He looked out his window and sighed. The suns had gone down. It was late. He had gone off duty hours ago. By all rights he should be back in his apartment, eating dinner and unbuttoning his uniform. _Well, where's the fun in that?_

Tapping the comm panel on his desk he said, "Get me Argus Phoenix, on the double."

* * *

Argus could feel his stress begin to melt away with the bubbles of the hot tub at the top of his apartment building. It was a beautiful night out, cool but not cold, and with a gentle breeze coming in from the ocean, carrying with it the scent of salt and clean water. Even so, Argus knew he wouldn't be able to relax completely until his Arwing was retrieved, and the bungled attempt on BR-558 had left him feeling somewhat dejected. _Of course it isn't Star Fox's fault Crespo decided to stage a crackdown._

No, James McCloud and his team were not the ones Argus found himself frustrated with. Rather it was Pepper and the Federation military. He had signed off on their plan, but in retrospect he probably shouldn't have. It had had all the hallmarks of a disaster waiting to happen. They'd needed subtlety, but instead they'd gone in with a blatant show of force. And, in doing so, they had seriously underestimated both the pirates they had been chasing, and whoever was truly behind the Arwing's theft. _Because I refuse to believe it was a simple act of piracy. Especially since the tracking signal is no longer working._

Then again, the tracking signal could still have been working, even if it hadn't been detected anywhere inside the Federation. A few of the analysts he'd spoken to had floated the idea that it might be somewhere outside the system, but Argus doubted that. More likely it was squirreled away in one of the gas clouds orbiting Solar, all of which were under the control of either the Anglars or the Eladardians. Because of this the Federation was reluctant to point the kinds of high intensity scanners they would need to pick up the Arwing's unique radiolytic signature at them, for fear of triggering a diplomatic incident. _Ascended forbid it's actually_ _ **on**_ _Venom or Eladard._

Once they managed to pick up the Arwing's trail again, because he couldn't bear to think of it as anything other than certain, Argus intended to keep the military, and every Federation agency in the system as far away from the retrieval mission as possible. _Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Only this time it's more 'fail me once...'_

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Argus opened his eyes and smiled at the owner of the soft, feminine voice. "Darla. Please." Argus waved for her to join him in the water, grateful for the interruption to a thought process he'd been having over and over for the past seven days.

The black furred poodle stepped into the water, gasping momentarily at the heat before sinking down to her chin. "You look troubled."

"Is it that obvious?" Argus asked, a hint of a smile playing across his muzzle. Darla Roussel was an executive at Corneria Geothermal, a power company servicing a number of communities across the planet, as well as military installations in the volcanic regions of the planet. They maintained their headquarters here in Corneria City, like most of the big companies in the more northern regions of Corneria.

"I make it a point to pay attention to the subtle physical cues people can't control," Darla said, smiling and showing off a set of glimmering, healthy teeth and gums. "It helps in negotiation."

"Mmm." Argus looked at her, tilting his head back down and away from the pitifully few stars in the sky. "If you're smart enough to do that, I'm sure you know why I'm troubled."

"Your prototype?" Darla guessed.

"Mmhmm."

"Anything you can talk about?" the poodle asked, an interested glimmer in her eyes.

"Not really." Argus shook his head. "I wish I could. But until all this is settled..."

"I understand."

The two of them were silent for a few minutes. Argus enjoyed Darla's company. He'd never felt anything romantic towards her, though he would admit to finding her quite attractive. And besides, she wasn't the only one who could read subtle signs. _Or not so subtle. Both of the other hot tubs up here are empty._

"I saw that interview you did. I was a little surprised. You don't usually do that sort of thing," Darla said, breaking the quiet between them.

"It was a favor for a friend," Argus told her. "I'm sure you know who." He smiled again at her, shifting around to close some of the distance between them, signaling his interest as he made eye contact.

Darla favored him with another smile of her own, their eyes meeting. Argus could feel the subtle crackle of electricity that told him his interest was appreciated, and that she was more than willing. "If I don't, I'm sure I can figure it out."

"I'm sure you could too," Argus responded. "Tell me something?"

"Sure."

"Any reason you decided to come to the hot tub tonight?"

Darla blushed a little, and Argus felt a rush of excitement as she scooted right next to him. "To tell you the truth? I didn't have a reason. Just thought I might get...lucky."

Argus grinned and put an arm around her. She settled into him with a happy little noise. "Well, did you?"

Darla was about to answer when Argus' phone started buzzing. He squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips, holding back the urge to pick up the phone and throw it into the water. He hadn't had an opportunity like this in months. Darla, however, didn't seem put off in the slightest. Sitting up she brushed her lips against one of his oversized ears and said, "Go ahead. I don't mind."

Nodding he picked up the phone and frowned when he saw the letters C.P. on the screen. Tapping the answer button he held it to his ear and said, "Yes?"

" _Argus. I just got word about that package that got misdirected."_

The fennec sat bolt upright. "Where is it?"

" _I'd rather not discuss it over the phone."_

"You know my phone is fine," Argus said, a bit of frustration seeping into his voice. His phone was probably more secure than the President's, and he didn't have the time or the inclination for cloak and dagger games.

" _Even so. I'm at my office, if it isn't inconvenient."_

Sucking in a frustrated breath he glanced at Darla, sitting there, nodding in understanding. "I'll be there in twenty minutes." He didn't bother waiting for Pepper to respond before ending the call. Argus turned to the poodle sharing the hot water with him. "Sorry. You know how it is."

"Of course. I understand," Darla replied. "Go do whatever you need to do."

"Thanks."

Argus stood up and started to climb out of the hot tub. Just as he was setting foot on cool pavement, Darla said to him, "You know my apartment number?"

He stopped and looked back at her. "2007."

She smiled and gave him a look that could have melted tritanium alloy. "Just knock. My door's always open for you."

"I will. See you around," Argus said, tail wagging behind him. _This had better be worth it Pepper._

* * *

"It's on Eladard," Pepper said as soon as Argus stormed into his office, looking like he was about to chew out the Colonel and anyone else within five hundred meters.

The fennec froze in his tracks at the name of the planet. Since the debacle at BR-558 Argus had been mentally classifying all the planets the Arwing could end up on in terms of the headache they would cause. Eladard had been at the very top of the list.

The door clicked shut behind him and Argus sagged against it, his anger and frustration replaced with exhaustion."Eladard. Of course. It all makes perfect sense now."

"Industrial espionage," Pepper said, looking grim and somewhat dyspeptic.

"Yes. MST. I just never thought they'd be bold enough to try and pull something like this," Argus told the hound, rubbing his muzzle with one hand. _Edgar Marcross. Bastard._

Pepper looked considerate for a moment, hands clasped in his lap at he stared down at his desk. When he looked up Argus knew what he was going to say, "I can't be involved in this. Neither can the Federation government."

 _You have no idea what a relief that is,_ Argus thought to himself. What he said instead was, "I understand. You also know that I'm not going to let this go. I need that prototype back."

"Yes. I know." Pepper nodded, setting a hand on his desk and drumming his fingers on the surface.

Silence settled on the office. Argus glanced around for a moment, noting his surroundings. The coffee table had several empty mugs and twice as many paper cups sitting on it. Even if things hadn't gone the hound's or Argus' way in the last week, the fennec could at least appreciate the tireless energy the Colonel brought to his occupation.

Outside the glow of Corneria City lit the room with a soft yellow light, casting shadows across parts of the room. The only other light came from the lamp sitting on Pepper's desk. _Very cloak and dagger._

"Whatever you do, I don't want to know anything about it," Pepper said, standing up and unbuttoning the top button of his uniform jacket. It was the closest to being out of uniform Argus thought the hound had ever been. _He probably sleeps in the damn thing. Whatever else, you can't question his dedication._ "The less I know the better."

"Understood." Argus held out a hand which Pepper took, the two of them exchanging a firm handshake. "Whatever happens, I do appreciate your efforts," Argus said, before adding privately to himself, _As futile and counterproductive as they were._

Pepper chuckled mirthlessly and shook his head. "You don't have to lie Argus. The Federation has screwed you over twice now. And I'm partly to blame."

"Well," Argus said, frowning, "I can't exactly argue with that."

"It's hard to argue with the truth." Pepper straightened up. "Good luck Argus."

"Thank you, Pepper," Argus said. "I'll let you know the minute I have it back."

Having said everything that needed to be said Argus turned and walked out of the office, leaving the Colonel and the Federation military behind, and with a firm idea of exactly who he would be calling in the morning. _Something tells me Lylat is going to come to rely on them a lot more than even they realize._

* * *

Vixy glanced at her watch. _Ten more hours. I hate interplanetary transports._ Interplanetary travel came in two varieties: Very fast or very slow. If she and Star Fox had hopped aboard their Switch-Wings, which had booster engines for this type of travel, they could have covered the distance from Corneria to Eladard in a little over an hour. Instead, as part of the effort to keep as low a profile as possible, they were flying in on a cruise liner, which, since leaving Corneria ten hours ago was only halfway to its destination. _This is infuriating._

With a growl of frustration Vixy hopped out of the one piece of furniture other than a bed in her cabin, a swivel chair in front of a tiny desk, and slapped the door control. The door slid open and Vixy stepped out into the corridor. She looked right, then left, then right again. She could either go down to the mess hall and see if they had any food, or she could visit one of her travel companions. _I'm not hungry._

She turned right, counting the doors until she came to the fifth one past her own. She pressed the chime and waited, tapping her foot impatiently. No one answered so she chimed again. Again no answer. With a growl she tapped the open button and smiled as the door slid aside. He hadn't locked it. "James? James you in there?"

The cabin was identical to hers. A twin bed, a swivel chair bolted to the floor, and a tiny desk. Lying on the bed, one arm behind his head, was James McCloud, looking bored, depressed, and full of an almost manic energy at the same time. He'd been like this for the past week, ever since they'd failed to get the Arwing back on the mining asteroid. James McCloud didn't take failure at all well. He had an annoying habit of blaming himself for anything and everything that went wrong in his life. She knew that in the tod's mind everything could have been saved if he'd just done this differently or that more quickly. It was at once endearing and profoundly narcissistic.

"James?" she said, pulling her tail in just in time to dodge the door as it slid shut. "Hello? Papetoon to James McCloud?"

The male fox turned to look at her. He offered a weak smile and said, "Hey Vix. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just bored out of my skull," Vixy said, plopping herself down on the edge of the bed. "We should have taken our Switch-Wings."

"Can't. It would have drawn too much attention," James said, shaking his head. "And the last thing we need is to draw anymore attention than we already have."

Vixy rolled her eyes. She would have felt a lot better if their insertion and exit strategies had involved the fighters, but as it stood they'd be relying on a civilian carrier that Argus had arranged for them to have at their disposal to get the Arwing off of Eladard. _A carrier flown by a ROB-series robot, which I'll have to dock with in orbit._ "Uh huh. Look, you can stop blaming yourself for what happened on BR-5-whatever-the-fuck. It wasn't your fault."

"I was in charge of the mission," James said, setting his lips in a firm line, his body tensing. "It was my responsibility."

"Oh. Okay." Vixy rolled her eyes again. "I guess that means you called in those Crespo security goons. Or blew the roof off of that hangar and flew the dropship out to the pirate ship. And I suppose you were the one who decided to do a nearly suicidal warp jump in the middle of an asteroid belt."

"What's your point Vixy?" James said, sitting up and glaring at her.

"My point is that you're beating yourself up for something that isn't your fault." Vixy crossed her arms and glared defiantly back at him. "And it's getting really fucking annoying."

"I didn't ask you to come to my cabin you know," James bit back. "If you don't like the company, the door is over there." He pointed towards the door to the corridor.

Vixy growled and stood up, walked one step, then kicked her shoes off. Next came her skirt. Then her shirt. Then bra and panties. Turning around and putting her hands on her hips, she said, "Will you just fuck me so things can go back to normal?"

"What are you talking about?" James asked, his eyes roving up and down her slender body. "This has nothing to do with..."

"Oh yes it does," Vixy interrupted him. She hopped back on the bed and pried his legs apart. "We were between jobs for a week. Argus even paid us despite what happened."

"Not the full amount," James mumbled, looking dangerously self-pitying.

Vixy's eyes spat venom at him. "You got paid. A lot. And you had a week off. Besides, you were the one who told him you didn't feel comfortable taking the full amount even though he offered."

"Where are you going with this?" James said, arms crossed.

"Where am I going with this?" Vixy stared at him, her tail flicking in agitation, her ears pinned back against her head. She was a little insulted he wasn't pushing her into the covers at this point. _And it also means something really is wrong._ "You need to stop punishing yourself. You got paid and you didn't even drown your sorrows. And, as far as I know, you didn't even try to go out and find some companionship."

"So what?" James asked, shaking his head. "Who cares if I get laid? Maybe I didn't want to, did that ever occur to you?"

Vixy chewed the inside of her lip. It hadn't occurred to her, come to think of it. James, as long as she'd known him, had never been this touchy about sex. He was responsible, and he had ambitions, but he also had needs he was quite faithful about taking care of. "James..."

"I failed that mission." His voice got a bit louder. "I failed that mission, and to top it off I nearly got all of you killed in a firefight that never should have happened."

"James." Vixy snapped and stood up. She'd had enough. "Get your head out of your fucking ass for one second. It was not your fault. That firefight happened because Crespo got spooked when Pepper and all of his uniforms decided to go in there swinging their balls around like they were the pendulum of a goddamn grandfather clock. It was a bad plan. But it wasn't a plan that you made. You got hired, you did your part, and _no one_ got hurt. And that needs to be enough for you."

James stared at her for a moment, and she could see the gears turning in his head. Vixy wondered if she might have gone too far. He was the team's leader, and talking back like this was not something anyone, military, private military, or any other group would have taken kindly too. _That's me though. Screaming truth to power._ Part of her wanted to apologize, get dressed, and go back to her room. The other part though was too pissed off at him for being the paradoxically selfless ego maniac he was.

Swinging his legs off the bed James leaned his elbows on his knees and said, "You're right."

Relief and surprise coursed through Vixy's veins at those words. "Damn right I am. So, what are you gonna do about it?"

Smirking, James patted the bed next to him. She sat down and he wrapped his arms around her. "I was thinking about breaking that stupid contract I signed with Peppy."

Vixy smiled, nuzzled into her friend's neck and pulled him down onto the sheets. She spread her legs and said, "Come on flyboy, show me all that newfound confidence."

Watching as he pulled his clothes off, baring that powerful, orange and white furred physique to the cool, recycled air of the transport, Vixy felt her heart flutter, even as her loins began burning with desire. What she'd done to deserve a lifelong friend like him she would never know. She giggled as he fluffed up his manhood, then said, "A little tongue first would be appreciated. If it isn't too much trouble."

James gave her a dashing smile and said, "Not at all. I always enjoyed eating out."

Giggling again, her tail beating against the mattress, Vixy beckoned him forward. He came closer, that smile still on his face, and all Vixy could think was: _We might just be friends but...I'd do anything to see him smile._

* * *

A/N: Awwww. She wants to see him smile.

Vixy: I don't love him.

James: Yeah. We're not in love. No way!

Uh huh. Sure. See you guys next week.


	15. Before This All Goes

**Chapter Fifteen**

 _ **Before This All Goes...**_

They'd been starstruck, that was for certain. _And why wouldn't they be?_ Cadman thought to himself. Growing up on the bottom rung of Macbethan society, never knowing how the rest of Lylat lived, coming to a place like Zoness would have been the biggest imaginable culture shock in the universe. Personally, Cadman would have preferred it if his mission had been taking place in the bowels of Numanchester or one of the other industrial cities on Macbeth. A place where the underworld was actually under the world, and where meeting in dark, secluded alleyways meant the smell of trash, urine, and lewd graffiti. Places like Zoness were too clean for Cadman's taste.

Perhaps nothing exemplified that more than when he lit a cigarette while he waited in line for an elevator up to the 120th level. People looked at him first with curiosity, then with disgust when they saw him draw in and then exhale a cloud of smoke from his nose. The woman next to him, an avian with a tiny chick roosting in the crest on her head, frowned and then went back several spaces in line, muttering about the dangers of secondhand smoke and what it could do to a newborn's lungs. Cadman shrugged and advanced with the line. No fur off his back if she wanted to wait a little longer.

Once he had made it to the head of the line Cadman decided to be courteous, so he plucked the smoke from his muzzle, tossed it on the ground, and stomped on it with a foot. As he got into the elevator he could see people gingerly stepping around it, trying and failing to hide their distaste. Cadman just smiled and shrugged a mock apology as the doors shut and the lift kicked into motion. _What do people do around here for fun?_

If he were on Macbeth or Fortuna, things would have been different. Even Papetoon would have been easier to stomach. People on those worlds were rough, with sharp edges and dangerous personalities. They knew want and suffering and they reveled in the challenge, or wallowed in defeat. Here on Zoness though? These people were just Cornerian-lite. They had it all. Great schools, great jobs, and a government that was looking out for their interests. And so they had a good, easy, comfy life, even if they were in the lower strata of the planet's society. They ate well and they smiled. And they didn't shoot or rob each other. At least not all that often. _So they forget how the rest of the galaxy lives._

The lift doors opened and Cadman stepped out, along with about a dozen other people. The lifts in the arcologies ran in circuits, much like trains would in a normal city. It was an efficient system, and it made waiting for the elevator much less painful than it might have seemed.

Level 120 looked more or less like level 14. It was brightly lit, had a happy, cloying, bubbly atmosphere, and was filled with shops, people, and children. The differences were subtle, but they were there. If you looked at pricing in restaurants and stores you would notice that everything cost a little more, and was of a somewhat higher quality, reflecting the higher incomes of those living a hundred and six levels above the lowest of the proletariat. Still, these were mostly working class people, just like the ones below. Not that any working class Fortunan would have recognized them as such.

After getting his bearings Cadman headed for the nearby slidewalk, an unobtrusive type of mass transit for those who needed get somewhere too far to walk, and too close to justify a tram or taking a car. As he moved through the crowd and onto the pedestrian conveyor belt, Cadman's mind wandered back to the events of a week before, with the close escape from BR-558, and the successful delivery of the Arwing prototype to Eladard.

* * *

" _Well done," Vesper said, running a hand across the prototype. "Well done indeed."_

 _Cadman nodded, otherwise not giving away how pleased he was at the compliment. Vesper rarely assigned compliments to anyone for doing their job, so when he did it was a sign of his favor. Cadman knew agents who would have killed, maimed, and done far worse for the favor of a 'well done'. Cadman was one of them. "Thank you, sir."_

 _Vesper straightened and turned to him, amusement in his eyes. "Sir. It's such a strange honorific, don't you think? Especially for one who has no title that requires it. There are Brahmins on Corneria who would be quite offended to hear you call me 'sir'."_

" _I suppose." Cadman shrugged his shoulders. "But then they never did earn that title, did they?"_

" _Ah! Very good!" Vesper snapped his fingers and approached Cadman. "No, they have not earned their title. Bloodlines mean nothing, only merit can determine if a person is worthy of a title. Would you like a title? You've certainly earned one."_

 _Cadman chuckled. "It'll take more than that to bribe me, sir."_

 _Vesper laughed, his eyes twinkling. "No. I suppose a title wouldn't work on you." Vesper looked considerate. "I have a feeling I know what would, though."_

 _Cadman remained silent, though he cocked an eyebrow._

 _Smiling, Vesper went on, "Once you've completed your next assignment, I'll arrange for two weeks for you in a Fortunan pleasure den. Only the finest company, the finest intoxicants. You deserve no less. Does that appeal to you?"_

 _Cadman grinned. "It does."_

" _Then it is yours. Nothing but the best for my most trusted right hand." Vesper clapped him on the shoulder. "And, if you'd like a special guest..."_

" _Shea," Cadman said without hesitation._

 _Vesper raised his eyebrows. "Mm. I didn't think she was your type."_

" _Her body isn't what I'm concerned with," Cadman replied._

" _Then what other reason would you have for bringing her to a pleasure den?" Vesper asked, his face a study in profound interest._

" _To see what she's like when she's not working," Cadman explained. "I find I learn far more about a person when they're relaxing, then I do when they're working."_

 _Vesper nodded approvingly. "Make the offer. I'll be happy to arrange for her accommodations as well. Presuming, of course, she accepts. Do you think she will?"_

" _I think she will, yes," Cadman said._

 _There was a moment of silence between the two, and Cadman could see the wheels in Vesper's head turning. For a moment Cadman wondered what web his employer might be weaving. He quashed the thought. Vesper would tell him if it was important for him to know. If it wasn't, then it was none of his business anyway._

 _Looking at Vesper, Cadman realized that employer wasn't really the right word for him. Cadman worked for no one else, and he had no interest in using his skills for anyone else. He did what he did out of loyalty, and the knowledge that everything he had was thanks to this strange, sleepless feline standing before him, and that with the snap of a finger he could take it all away. When he put it to himself like that Cadman realized that the right description, the one that perfectly summed up their relationship, was that of master and slave. It didn't bother him in the slightest._

 _Vesper spun around suddenly, marching back to the Arwing. He regarded it for a moment, tail lashing behind him as he thought. Then he said, "This radiolytic isotope. What do you make of it?"_

 _Cadman walked up to the Arwing, eyeing it and its polished finish. "Ingenious, really. Any other kind of tracking device could be blocked or removed. But, since the only way to block the signal would be to flood the area with the same kind of radiation, and in quantities lethal to organic bodies and dangerous to synthetic matrices, it means, for all practical purposes, it is unable to be blocked."_

" _Correct." Vesper nodded, tapping the forefinger of his right hand against the bottom of his chin. "What else?"_

" _Because it's baked in, it can't be removed, unless, of course, you were to disassemble the entire Arwing," Cadman added._

" _Yes. And I have no desire to do that." Vesper shook his head. "Quite a puzzle."_

 _Cadman didn't say anything. Vesper was thinking. And thinking hard. Cadman had seen what happened when you interrupted a thought process like that. Oh, Vesper could forgive the occasional accident, like if you were a continent or more away and had no reasonable way of knowing he was in the midst of a brainstorming session. But, rushing him, or trying to break what felt like an awkward silence, could lead to all number of nasty things. Once, when Cadman had just been starting out, his handler had made the mistake of trying to hurry a meeting along. He'd lost an eye to Vesper's claws._

" _Perhaps I don't need to disassemble it. Not entirely anyway." Vesper reached forward with a hand and tapped his claw against the G-diffuser. "Hmmm." Silence for a few more seconds. "Well, I'll have to think on this."_

 _Cadman nodded. He knew Vesper already had a plan, but he was just politely telling him that he didn't need to know. Yet another sign of the respect Vesper had for his relationship with Cadman, and one that the canine did not take for granted. Vesper turned._

" _In the meantime, I think it's about time you learned what your next assignment is." Vesper motioned for him to follow. Cadman did._

 _As they walked Vesper began speaking. Cadman had to stoop slightly in the confines of the tunnels Vesper had chosen as his hideout. More of a lair, given the decor of shed reptile skin and white, decayed bones. Catacombs were more or less the same no matter where you went. "You already know about the team I found on Macbeth. The ones who I believe have the skills needed to pull off this assignment."_

" _Yes." Cadman recalled the information, bringing it to the fore of his mind. "Lupus and Sarah O'Donnell, and Jax."_

" _Mm. Jax. Odd name," Vesper muttered. Cadman could see the hint of a smile curling the feline's short muzzle. Most people wouldn't have known it, but Vesper had quite a sense of humor. He seemed to delight in what he did, and in everything that came along with it._

 _They stopped at an old wooden doorway, a candle flickering in the sconce just above it. Vesper pushed the door open and Cadman followed him inside. The room was dark as well, the only light provided by a laptop computer plugged into a mobile powersource. Vesper motioned to a chair in front of the desk and Cadman sat down._

 _Vesper settled in and said, "Have you heard about the Interdimensional Warp Transfer Gate?" Cadman shook his head. "It's a revolutionary new technology. It could be used to transfer ships from one point in space to another parsecs away, instantly."_

 _Cadman narrowed his eyes. "That would change things."_

" _Indeed."_

" _You want it." Cadman wasn't asking._

" _Yes." Vesper opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a memory card. "Everything you need to know is on this. Contacts, locales, time tables, background. Collect Lupus and his teammates and get to work."  
_

 _Cadman took the memory card and slipped it into his pocket. "Consider it done."_

 _Vesper smiled and held out his hand. Cadman shook it. "Good luck."_

" _Thanks. Good luck to you."_

* * *

One thing in the in the universe remained constant. No matter how rich or well off you were, you could always be a little more rich, a little more well off. Inequality was the spice of life, and if the competition for survival had been made obsolete on worlds like Zoness and Corneria, it was only because it had been replaced by the competition for comfort. _Greed,_ Cadman thought to himself as he rode another elevator up through a residential complex, _will always be a constant._

Once, when the concept of a post-scarcity society was just becoming a reality, people had boldly predicted that things like money and other exchange mediums would become outdated, and society would reorder itself into a utopia in which the driving force of life was not the acquisition of wealth, but the betterment of all people. It almost made Cadman laugh at how naive people had once been.

It hadn't taken long for people to realize that those utopias would never exist. If need had been eliminated, want had not been. People _wanted_. It was in their nature. If not hard coded into their DNA than at least hard wired by millennia of cultural obsession. So, people in Lylat didn't starve? Great. But they still wanted things. They wanted more food than they got. They wanted more space to live. They wanted more things to enjoy. They wanted longer vacations in nicer resorts. They wanted bigger holovisions with clearer images. They could have every need fulfilled, but when it came down to it, the wants that people had were truly limitless. The more they had, the more they wanted. No one could supply every material want, and no one could ever acquire everything they desired, so money remained as a means of rationing the vast, but still not limitless resources of a solar system, a galaxy, and a universe.

With that in mind, Cadman stepped out of the elevator and made his way down a short corridor. He was meeting with a person who definitely shouldn't have been meeting with him. Stopping in front of the last door in the corridor Cadman raised his fist and knocked twice. He waited. He heard another door click behind him. He glanced in that direction. He saw a brief flash of a female lupine form. Sarah? Doubtful. He'd have known if he was being tailed. Probably just another resident who'd taken the stairs instead of the lift.

The door in front of him clicked open and he returned his attention to it, forgetting the incident as quickly as it had happened. "Ms. Swift?" he asked, smiling at the single eye peering around the doorframe.

"Yes?" said a soft, feminine voice.

"Mr. Dane. I understand you're interested in our security systems," Cadman said, reciting his cover story.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Come in."

The door opened fully and Cadman walked in, brushing past the female avian standing to the side. He pulled out a scanning device and began checking the room for surveillance devices. A few moments later and he clicked the scanner shut, satisfied that the apartment was secure. The door shut behind him and he turned around. "Nice place you have here," Cadman said, looking around at the living room of the apartment. Soft furniture, a holovision, game console. Kitchen that, judging by the open cabinets, appeared well stocked.

"You don't have to lie," the female avian, Talia Swift, replied. "It's a working class hovel, and not where I intend to live for the rest of my life."

 _Lady, if only you knew what people on Fortuna would give to live in a place like this,_ Cadman thought privately to himself. Out loud he said, "I understand. I might be able to help you with that." Talia just cocked a feathery eyebrow. "Of course, I would need something in exchange."

"Of course." Talia moved past him and into the bedroom. Cadman waited outside. When she returned she was holding a memory card. "This contains all the information on Installation 214's security systems."

Cadman reached out, remarking silently to himself that he seemed to be getting a lot of memory cards lately. "Why thank you," Cadman said. He pulled out a credit chit and handed it over to her. "One million. Untraceable."

"Our agreed upon price was two," Talia said, acid in her voice.

"You've only given me half of what I want," Cadman replied.

Talia frowned. "I'm just head of security. What makes you think..."

"Oh don't bullshit me," Cadman bit out. He stepped closer, looming over her. She blanched, her nostrils flaring from the scent of smoke that clung to his fur and his breath. "You're head of security. Your job is to make sure that base is secure. Which means you need to know every inch of it. So, I need the exact location of that schematic card. Or else...well..." He gave her a look that had her feathers ruffling, "You don't look all that hard to break. Or something else."

Talia's eyes widened and she glared up at him. "How dare you..."

She brought her hand up to slap him, but Cadman grabbed her by the wrist and whispered, "Bad idea."

"Let go of me."

Cadman leaned over her until his muzzle was almost pressing against her beak. "Give me what was agreed, and I promise you, I'll be a perfect gentleman." He lowered his voice even further. "But don't push me."

Swift's eyes darted away from him, and she whispered, "Please. I don't have it. They don't tell me that sort of thing."

"What _do_ they tell you?" Cadman grunted, letting go of her wrist and shoving her back. "Because whatever it is, it sure as hell ain't worth the two million my boss is offering you."

Her back hit the wall and she rubbed her wrist where he'd been gripping her. "Just what's on the card," she told him. Cadman was impressed she wasn't crying. If he'd been in her place, he'd be scared shitless. "I swear. I'll take the million."

Cadman eyed her. He didn't quite like how this was going. But...he tapped the card against his phone and scrolled through the information. It was all there. Everything she'd promised would be on it. He looked up at her, smiled, and said, "Enjoy your new found wealth, Ms. Swift."

"Half what was promised..." she muttered behind his retreating back.

Cadman turned on her with a grin. "If you're disappointed, I'm sure I could compensate you some other way." Talia paled behind her feathers and backed away, recognizing that leering gaze for exactly what it was. Not an offer. A threat. Seeing that he'd made his point, Cadman turned and left the apartment, confident that even if something did feel fishy, he could handle it, whatever it was. He always did.

* * *

"You what?" Argus stared dumbly at Cedwyn. They were sitting in a lounge in the Council Building, sipping cocktails and listening to the sounds of soft jazz, clinking glasses, and the whispered chatter of politicians and their staffers.

"I put a team on Eladard," Cedwyn repeated, looking confused at Argus' reaction. "Agents."

Argus ran a hand down his face, trying to get a hold of his anxiety. Oh this was not what he had wanted or expected to hear from Cedwyn when he'd been invited. "What department?"

"Security Directorate," Cedwyn replied. "The very best of the best. I pulled a few strings to get the mission authorized off the books. I...thought you'd be pleased."

"Fuck," Argus whispered. "Cedwyn, I meant to tell you, I already have a team on Eladard."

Cedwyn's features darkened. "What?"

"Star Fox. I hired them to go to Eladard and retrieve the Arwing," Argus said, frowning, his ears tipping back and then coming forward again.

"Ascended help me," Cedwyn muttered, looking sick to his stomach. "Why the _hell_ would you do that?"

Argus picked up his drink, a glowing yellow concoction the name of which had suddenly escaped him, and took a sip. When he set it down he said, "I didn't trust the government to handle this. Military or civilian."

"Oh." Cedwyn's voice was soft. Dangerously. Cedwyn Llewellyn was a loud, sometimes even boorish man at times. So when he spoke softly it was more intimidating than the loudest yell. "You didn't trust us to do this, so you took matters into your own hands?"

"Yes." Argus stared right into the jaws of potential death, unafraid. If his friend wanted to take offense than he had every right to, it didn't change the fact that Argus didn't plan on trusting the security of his business or his technology to the Federation government ever again. Not after everything that had happened in the last few weeks.

"Dammit!" Cedwyn slammed a fist on the table, spittle flying from his muzzle. All conversation in the lounge stopped, and heads turned to look at the two of them. Cedwyn grunted and reached for a small control panel on the table. He tapped a button followed by his authorization code, and the table projected a sound dampening field around them. They could yell and scream to their heart's content and no one would hear a word. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you Argus? It's like you think you're above the law. Above the Federation. _We_ handle these sorts of things. _We_ have the experience and the resources. _We_ have the authority. _You_ don't."

"Done?" Argus asked, reigning in his own temper. One of them had to keep calm. Cedwyn nodded. "Fine. Then let me tell you my side of the story. I sign a contract with the Federation government to develop a super-fighter. Something that, in even limited quantities, could irrevocably tip the scales of military technology in the Federation's favor. It's a multi-billion credit contract, and one that has the potential to _screw_ me if it gets canceled..."

"Space Dynamics would survive it, you told me that yourself," Cedwyn interrupted, looking petulant.

"Space Dynamics yes," Argus allowed. "Me? Not a chance. My investors would run me out of the company so fast the door would hit me so hard in the ass on the way out I'd be halfway to Titania before I knew what was happening." Cedwyn didn't seem to have an answer for that. Argus continued, "So, I sign this contract, and I'm delivering. Not only have I created the most powerful, efficient, and streamlined space superiority fighter in the history of the field, I've invented a revolutionary new technology that no one, _no one_ , but the Federation would have access to. Everything is going fine, that is, until the Federation decides combat tests will take place on Katina. I agree. It makes sense. You have the facilities there, and it's not that far from Corneria. With that in mind I trust its security to the Federation Security Forces. And what happens? What the _fuck_ happens? It gets _stolen!_ " Argus could tell he was losing that calm he'd been trying to maintain. He decided to let it go, Cedwyn looked like he was getting the message. "What happens next Cedwyn?"

Frowning, Cedwyn answered, "The military stepped in to help."

"Bingo." Argus grunted. "And then what happens? They lose it a fuck second time! Forgive me then if I don't have much faith in the Federation's capabilities or its competence in these matters."

Silence. Then, "Alright, I get your point," Cedwyn replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "But it doesn't change one key thing."

"And that is?" Argus asked, feeling his temper calming now that his friend had admitted defeat. Victory had a tendency to make one magnanimous. And Cedwyn rarely admitted defeat.

"We have two teams down there," Cedwyn said, "So, they might as well be working together, right?"

Argus hesitated for a moment. His first instinct was to tell Cedwyn and his Agents to go to hell, but the rational part of his brain knew that would be a pointless, vindictive move. Swallowing his pride, Argus nodded.

"Good." Cedwyn smiled. "I guarantee you won't..."

"Don't." Argus held up a hand. "Don't make any promises. For both our sakes. I do have a request though."

"Name it."

Argus repressed a smile. Cedwyn was in reconciliation mode, doing whatever it took to keep from burning an important bridge. "I want Star Fox to take the lead on this."

"I don't think that's possible," Cedwyn said, shaking his head.

"Really?" Argus arched an eyebrow. "Because I'm making it my one and only condition."

Across the table, the snow leopard looked considerate. Argus could see him weighing his options, looking at the pros and cons of the situation, and then coming to a decision. "I'll let them know."

"Good." Argus wagged his tail. He knew why Cedwyn hadn't put up that much of a fight, but Argus still considered having Star Fox running the show a better option than having two teams that weren't coordinating, or worse, having one team that Federation agents were in charge of. "Now, how about a drink. On me?" _Before this all goes straight to hell._

* * *

A/N: Cadman never fails to make me queasy. We're closing in on the end of the story now. Things are about to start coming to a head in the next four chapters. Also, I apologize for the lack of an update last week. That was a glitch in the system due to interference from Vex Update Minds. Fortunately I worked it out, and regular posting shall resume. What are Vex? Evil machines intent on turning all of creation into a cold, entropic, wasteland. I've been playing a lot of Destiny...Probably too much.

See you all next week!


	16. Directing Directorate

**Chapter Sixteen**

 _ **Directing Directorate**_

For a moment, James just stared at the flickering hologram of Argus Phoenix. The fennec stared back, appearing no more pleased with the instructions he was giving James than the vulpine was in receiving them. "I'm sorry James. I assure you, the agents have been briefed, and you will be in complete control of this mission."

James bit his lip, trying to formulate a more diplomatic response than the one that was forming in his head right now. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude but...you do realize why your friend in the Federation government agreed to this, right?"

"Yes James," Argus replied, the sound of the sigh escaping his muzzle crackling across the subspace carrier wave. "At least this way you won't end up accidentally shooting each other."

"Sure," James answered with a snort. "That makes me feel a whole lot better."

There was an awkward pause, then Argus appeared to straighten up. He tapped a few buttons off screen and said, "I've sent you a secure datapacket. It'll have the location where you're supposed to meet with the agents, as well as names and descriptions so that you'll be able to recognize them. I'm sorry again James, but this is how it's going to have to be."

"Understood, sir," James said, setting his face in a practiced mask of professionalism. "We'll get it done. McCloud out." He cut the transmission, then leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered. _Can this mission go five minutes without the Feds sticking their noses in?_

Behind him, Vixy perked up and asked, "I don't get it. What's the problem here? We'll be in control of the mission, it just means we have a couple of extra bodies. Right?"

James turned to look at his team. He didn't feel like explaining it to Vixy, so he glanced at Peppy before opening the datapacket on his phone. Peppy nodded and said, "We're in control because that way, if this all goes sideways, the Feds will be able to blame us, and not their own Security Directorate."

"Oh." Vixy frowned. "So we're the scapegoat."

"Basically," Peppy confirmed, looking none too pleased about hearing the words out loud.

"You can't blame them," Archer said. When everybody glared at him he held up his hands and added, "I'm not saying I'm happy with the situation, I'm just saying from the perspective of the Feds it makes sense. They've already been embarrassed twice, the last thing they want is a third incident involving the Arwing."

"My heart bleeds for them." James shook his head. "Fucking politics," he spat.

The room they were in, a small apartment that Argus had arranged for them to be able to use as a base of operations, remained quiet. The only noises came from outside, with the hawking of street vendors, the horns of passing cars, and the hustle and bustle of the people of Eladard City. A light rain pattered on the windows, tapping against the safety plastic. Finally James stood and reached for his coat and EP-37. "Well come on, we better not keep these agents waiting. Besides, not like any of the leads Argus provided us with have panned out thus far. And I'm sure these agents time is far more valuable than ours."

Peppy chuckled, and Vixy and Archer stood up and grabbed their gear. James led the way out of the apartment and back into the streets. He checked his phone, looking at the map and the pinging dot that indicated where they were supposed to meet the agents. It was far enough away that they'd need to take a train.

Glancing up for a moment James took stock of the city. Eladard City's skyscrapers reached far into the atmosphere, with several of them piercing the low hanging rain clouds in the sky. At a basic level they reminded him of Corneria City, but where the buildings of Corneria City were often transparent, and had a clean, efficient design, and welcoming bases, these towers made looking upwards feel oppressive. The city was built on multiple layers, having been raised and rebuilt more times than even the Eladardians could count. In fact, the sulfurous river that flowed through the center of the city had had to have its elevation raised twice to keep it consistent with the city.

The train station was a few meters ahead. James sidestepped a pile of garbage that had been left uncollected, his nostrils flaring at the scent of rotting food. He looked to his left and realized it must have been from a nearby restaurant selling the local variation of fish and chips. After James and his team had moved away from it, a scrawny Eladardian child ran behind them and scooped up the bag, then bolted towards a nearby residential block. James sighed and glanced at Peppy, "Eladardian charity?"

"Looks that way," the hare responded, shaking his head. In a time when technology could povide for the needs of an entire population, it seemed criminal for a society to choose not to.

Next to the hare, Vixy said, "These people have a lot to learn about building a free society." Peppy barked out a laugh. Vixy glanced at him, confusion in her eyes. "What?"

"Vixy," the hare said, "They might call this place a republic, but it's as corporate owned and run as Argelia. Trust me, these people have never known a free society, and they probably never will."

"Noted." Vixy glanced at James, and the two of them shared a smile as they descended into the subway station. "Is he always such a pessimist?"

"Only when he's away from Vivian," James explained.

"Ah." Vixy nodded. "He's a lot like you then?"

"What do you mean?" Both the fox and hare looked at her.

Grinning from ear to pointed ear, tail wagging behind her, and eyes filled with that peculiar brand of vulpine mischief, Vixy said, "You both get grumpy when you can't drain the pipes."

"True," James admitted, wagging his own tail as he said it, not so much as a blush on his face.

"Disgusting," Peppy replied, looking even grumpier than usual. Behind them, keeping an eye on the crowds of people passing by the three other Star Fox team members, Archer just chuckled and gave Peppy a playful shove as they lined up for a train, none of them noticing the surveillance camera as it swiveled to keep them in range.

* * *

Surveillance images were always grainy. Vesper had never quite found an answer as to why. The technology existed to make them crystal clear, and yet for some reason they remained just a bit staticy. It was something he was curious about, more than anything. It didn't make a difference in his work however. He had learned long ago how to filter out the unneeded, the unimportant, from both his vision and his thoughts. He could see all that he needed to see.

Since their arrival on Eladard, Vesper had been keeping an eye on the Star Fox team. They were proving quite fascinating. He'd gathered all the information he could find about them, and had spent one of his usual sleepless nights pouring over the data, getting to know each and every one of them as well as he could. What he'd found was a truly astounding level of potential. _Potential, however, is not the same as ability. Not yet at least. And thus far, they seem little interested in the shadows where I live._

Vesper smiled at the sight of the lynx, Archer, giving the hare, Peppy, a playful shove from behind. The vixen, Vixy, had been exchanging crude barbs with her friends, and Archer seemed amused by Peppy's reaction. The surveillance didn't capture audio of course, but Vesper was more than proficient when it came to lip reading. _What a wonderful sense camaraderie. You just don't see it in my side of the galaxy._

Judging by the direction they were heading they were on their way to meet with the agents from the Federation Security Directorate that had landed yesterday. Another smile. They were here because of a little behind the scenes politicking from Cedwyn Llewellyn. Vesper had never met the man, but he knew that the snow leopard's influence within the Federation was vast. More vast even than that of the current sitting Federation president. A point which probably drove President Farris mad in his private moments. _If it were my guess, Llewellyn will be president himself one day._ Of course, what Cedwyn didn't and couldn't know, was that Vesper had greased the wheels of his request.

When Star Fox had first arrived Vesper had assessed their capabilities. They had the talent and raw intelligence, but they lacked the technology to see the web he had woven, and thus be ensnared by it. He'd been a bit too subtle, as it turned out. In point of fact, Vesper had expected a Security Directorate operation, not a mercenary one. So, when his contacts in the Federation government reported to Vesper that Cedwyn had made his unusual request of the Security Directorate, it had been a stroke of superb fortune. And so, like Killik-Thulu, spinning his web of deceit and treachery, Vesper had gotten those same contacts to ensure that a team was sent in. _I'm almost disappointed in how easy that part was._

Star Fox was getting off the train, heading towards the little tavern where they were going to meet with the Security Agents. He brought up the files on the two agents. Both female, both canine, one Papetoonian, one Cornerian. One a collie, the other a labrador. Not that the species mattered all that much. However, Vesper found it typical of the Federation to send members of two species not often encountered on Eladard as "covert" operatives. Ah, well, you couldn't always have the smartest opponents, could you?

* * *

Vixy stepped off the train and wrapped her jacket a little tighter around her slender frame. It was times like these that she envied her friend Meryl's more voluptuous body. It certainly would have provided better insulation against the cold of an Eladardian night. "I don't get it," she said as she strode next to Archer. "Eladard is a volcanic planet, right?" The lynx nodded. "Then why is it so fucking cold at night?"

"Solar," Archer said, as if that explained everything.

Vixy arched an eyebrow and said, "I'm a pilot, not an astronomer. You're going to have to be a little more specific.

Chuckling, Archer said, "Okay. There are two suns in Lylat, right?" Vixy nodded. "Okay. Lylat is a blue-white, main sequence star. It burns nice and hot, but no so hot that it turns all our worlds to cinders."

"Right." Vixy remembered that from high school. "You know, I heard once that the number of habitable planets in our star system is, like, super weird."

Archer smiled as they started climbing the steps out of the underground station. "There's some theories out there that Lylat might be some sort of artificially created system of planets, but they're mostly bunk conspiracy theories. Either way, I wouldn't worry about it. None of it changes the reality that all our planets are habitable."

"Good point," Vixy said. Conspiracy theories could be fun, but she knew better than to take them seriously. Besides, Archer had a good point. So what if Lylat had been created through some artificial means? Some people thought that the Krazoa might have been behind it but, really, what did that change? It didn't make her more money, get her a better ship, or find her a good lay, so why worry about it?

"Alright. Now, Solar on the other hand is a red dwarf." They stepped back onto the surface, and Vixy felt another chill breeze come whistling through the streets, accompanied by the pattering of the night's drizzle. "Red dwarfs don't burn as hot as main sequence stars like Lylat. In fact, if it weren't for the natural greenhouse effect of the volcanic activity on Eladard, the place wouldn't be habitable at all. Or, at least, it'd look a lot more like Fichina than it does now."

"Okay." Vixy thought about it for a moment, comparing it against her high school science classes. She suddenly wished she'd paid a little more attention in them. "Then what about Venom? It doesn't have a natural greenhouse effect, does it?"

"Nope." Archer shook his head. "The green deserts on Venom are actually incredibly cold. The oceans, however, have a number of greenhouse compounds in them. Those compounds are what make the oceans there poisonous to most life in the galaxy."

"Then what about the Anglars?" Vixy asked, puzzled.

"Ah." Archer smiled and held up a finger. For a moment he looked almost like Peppy. Except that Peppy would have been lecturing her about history and politics, not science and astronomy. "You know what your appendix is, right?"

"Sure. It's the thing that got me out of school for two weeks," Vixy said, smiling right back. She dodged around a puddle on the ground, then took a look around. The city had changed as they walked. It looked a little more high class, and a lot safer. Looks could be deceiving though. While the people around them didn't look as dangerous, Vixy could see the armed police personnel walking around, all of them looking mean and suspicious. _I guess the middle classes don't have to worry about each other, just about the uniforms with guns._

Archer noticed her gaze and nodded. "Briefing packet said that upper level neighborhoods are more frequently patrolled. Eladard is less worried about the lower classes than the middle classes."

"Why is that?" Vixy asked. To her it seemed like the people on the lower levels were the most threatening, the most likely to turn to violence as a solution to their problems.

"Because," Peppy said, looking behind him at Vixy. "The lower classes are too busy surviving to cause trouble, and even when they do, they're not all that organized. These people though have the time and means to get together on things, and an education to teach them what the rest of Lylat looks like. Combine those things, and you get true revolutionary potential."

"All those damn not quite rich yet people," James said with a chuckle. "We're a few blocks from the place. Keep an eye out, but don't drawn attention."

Vixy nodded, letting her hand drift a little closer to her EP-37. She refocused on Archer and said, "So, what's the deal with my appendix?"

"Well," Archer said, "No one quite knows what it does, because it doesn't do anything, but some have theorized it was used to process toxins in raw meat."

"So, it's a legacy item from our feral past?" Vixy asked.

"Bingo." Archer gave her a thumbs up. "The Anglars have a similar organ. Except it is doing something. It processes what we would consider toxins, and allows them to live in the oceans."

"Does that mean they could live in normal water if they had to?" Vixy asked, curious.

"That's the theory," Archer confirmed.

"Weird."

Archer shrugged. "Galaxy is a strange place. Weird is a good way to describe it."

"If you guys are done with the class session," James said, smirking at the two of them, "I'd like it if you could get your game faces on." James pointed up to the sign that read Silent Scales Tavern. "Ready?"

"Always," Vixy replied, giving an eager wiggle that was only half a shiver. "Besides, it'll be warm in there, right?"

"Eladardians are reptiles," James said, pushing open the door.

The heat and humidity hit Vixy like a wave. "Yeah. So, really warm," she finished for James. Walking into the tavern Vixy realized that the name, Silent Scales, had been about as ironic as irony could be. Loud, thumping music blared out of massive speakers, forcing Vixy and her companions to plaster their ears against their skulls. Vixy's nostrils flared at the variety of smells, a mixture of sweat, alcohol, and the leathery scent that seemed to follow saurian species wherever they went. It wasn't at unbearable levels, but it certainly didn't smell appetizing. _Then again, plenty of people complain that foxes smell bad too, so I guess I shouldn't judge._

Glancing around Vixy spotted a pair of canines, a collie and a labrador, towards the back. There were other species here as well, some felines and simians, as well as a handful of amphibians. They all had the hard scrabble look of people who worked hard, then came to a bar to spend that hard earned cash. Their presence however helped make sense of why this had been the place chosen for the meeting. Despite the majority of the patrons being reptiles, the presence of other Lylatian species would allow Vixy and the rest of Star Fox, as well as the two Federation agents, to blend in and become just another part of the crowd. "See them?" Vixy asked James.

James nodded, his eyes fixed on the two canines in the back. He waved to them, and they waved back. "Come on, let's go say hi."

They made their way across the main floor, and Vixy found herself dodging two attempts by two separate people to grab her ass. It was times like these she was happy she had a gun, just in case. She noted that James didn't look too pleased either, and the third person to make an attempt wilted under his the male fox's molten gaze. _Animals,_ she thought to herself. Why were men always so grabby when they got drunk?

Once she had maneuvered through the minefield of male hormones and scaled fingers, Vixy slid into the booth alongside James. Peppy and Archer had split off at a silent signal from James to sit at an adjacent table nearby, keeping an eye on the other patrons. It was a good tactic. Plus, the booth only sat four so...

"James McCloud," James introduced himself, reaching across the table to shake the agents hands. "This is Vixy Reinard, my newest teammate. Over there are Peppy Hare and Archer Lynx. Also teammates."

The collie smiled and said, "Gwen Holt, FSD. This is my partner, Janice Ki."

Vixy's ears perked at the familiar country drawl, and she smirked at the look on James's face. It wouldn't have been noticeable to many people besides her, but she could see the slight coloration of his cheeks that always came at first hearing a girl with a country accent. She tapped him with her foot beneath the table. He looked at her and she gave him the, _Mission first, hit on her later,_ look.

James cleared his throat and looked back at Gwen. "Pleased to meet you. By the way, Papetoon?"

Gwen smiled. "Born and raised. Great Valley. You?"

"Suburbs around Dejima," James said. "Vixy's the same."

"Mmhmm. Explains that city accent," Gwen said, smiling softly. "Y'all are always speaking through your nose up there."

James smiled back, and Vixy felt his tail wagging against hers. _Oh boy._

"Gwen."

Vixy looked over when Janice spoke for the first time. The posh accent she was sporting pegged her immediately as Cornerian. Grantham Isles, southern coastal regions if Vixy had to guess. The two of them must have made quite an interesting pair at parties with those two accents. "Yes Janice?" Gwen asked, glancing at her partner.

"Business first, wouldn't you say?" Janice said, her tone containing a subtle hint of admonishment.

"Sure." Gwen turned back to James. "My superiors have ordered me to cooperate fully, of course, Mr. McCloud."

"James, please," James corrected her, that dashing grin on his muzzle that Vixy knew always made a girl's legs go all to jelly.

"Alright James," Gwen said, returning that grin full force. "Now, as I understand it, you have someone who can fly that Arwing."

"That'd be me," Vixy piped up. "I was one of the original test pilots for the Arwing program. I know that fighter better than the people who designed her."

"Works for me then," Gwen said, tail thumping behind her. "Now, what do you need from us?"

"Scanning equipment," James told her. "Specifically, equipment that would allow us to scan the entire city."

Gwen and Janice looked at each other, and Vixy sensed they were having one of those silent conversations that consisted entirely of subtle eye movement and other physical cues. Gwen turned back to them, "We can help you with that. What are we scanning for?"

"I can't tell you," James answered.

Both women's expressions went dark across the table. They shared another one of those private, silent conversations, then Gwen looked at James. "Why not?"

"It's private. And I was told not to give up the information to anyone I didn't absolutely have to," James replied, his jaw set in that firm, stubborn line that Vixy knew all too well.

Gwen ran a hand through her long, brown hair, letting out a frustrated sigh as she did so. "Who told you that?"

"Argus Phoenix."

"I see." Gwen grunted, not pleased, but obviously understanding that there was nothing she could do about it. "Well, there's no reason I can't let you have access to our ship's scanners to do whatever it is you need to do."

"Good." James's muzzle immediately morphed back into a big, happy smile. "Then there shouldn't be any problem."

Gwen chuckled, and she said, "You're going to be a hard person to work with, aren't you James?"

James smirked, and replied, "I can be hard, yeah. But I promise I don't have anymore secrets."

 _Oh brother._ Vixy thought to herself. _Is this what Peppy feels like on a regular basis?_ Vixy could see the electricity start to crackle between the fox and the collie. She knew James could exercise a certain degree of self-control, but she had a feeling that when this was all over the two of them would be wearing out the springs in the nearest mattress they could find.

Gwen stood up and said, "Well, why don't we head back to our ship, get those scanners all fired up?"

James patted her leg to get her to move, and Vixy stood up. "Sounds like a great idea," James said. "Lead the way."

They started making their way out of the tavern. Just as Gwen and Janice walked through the exit, Vixy pulled James aside and whispered, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"About what?" James asked, motioning for Peppy and Archer, who had both stopped to see what was going on, to go ahead without them.

"Something about all of this feels...wrong, somehow." Vixy shook her head, trying to figure out what she was trying to say. The feeling had come over her on the way here. Somehow the presence of the Federation agents seemed a little too...convenient.

"How so?" James leaned forward, ears cupped in interest. To his credit he was giving serious consideration to her feelings.

"I don't know." Vixy shook her head. "Just...we get here and realize that we don't have a practical means to find the Arwing, because none of Argus' contacts are willing to help. Then, all of a sudden, we find out that the Federation is here and we can scan the whole place."

James frowned, and Vixy could tell that he was seeing her point. Sighing, he said, "Alright, fair enough. Considering we don't have any other options though..."

"Right." Vixy's ears drooped. "Forget I said anything."

James shook his head and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm glad you told me. I need to know what you know, otherwise I can't lead the team effectively. We'll be cautious, but I'm not willing to look a gift riding beast in the mouth."

"Understood." Vixy straightened and gave him a smile. "You and Gwen though? I'm sensing some interest."

James smirked. "What gives you that idea?"

"Come on," Vixy said, pulling him towards the exit. "She's got a rack that goes halfway from here to Macbeth, and she's got a country Papetoon accent. I know you well enough to know what gets you going."

"Point taken." James shrugged. "But don't worry. If anything happens, we'll be able to handle it. Right?"

Catching up with the rest of the group, Vixy smiled. "Yeah. We will."

* * *

A/N: Have you ever thought about just how many security cameras there are in your town alone? Probably not. But Vesper has. Creep.

Also, this will be the last update before Christmas! So Happy Christmas, Hanukka, Quanza, Festivus, and the Dawning! (I think I got all of them)

Vixy:...except a Christmas one shot.

Yeah. So it was an off year. I put out Lost Colony. (Check it out, it's cool)

Vixy: That's not Christmas themed.

*sigh*

Vixy: James and I were gonna smash.

Thank you Vixy.

See you guys after Christmas, and my best wished to all of you :)

-furfurfurfurfurfurfluff


	17. Cross My Heart

**Chapter Seventeen**

 _ **Cross My Heart...**_

In his whole life Lupus had never seen so much green. It was everywhere. The fronds of the ferns, the leaves of the tree, the blades of the grass. He'd been to an arboretum. Once. And that had only been to steal flowers for his sister's birthday. It didn't compare to this though. Here on Zoness, the green that people on Macbeth only saw in a small, enclosed space, stretched on for thousands of miles to form colossal jungles and massive rainforests. If he hadn't been here, walking inside of it on his own two feet, Lupus might not have believed that such a place was possible.

There were downsides though. The heat was oppressive for one. The sun had gone down, but nights on Zoness were warm, and the dense canopy that stretched above them kept most of the day's heat from escaping. Down on the ground level the underbrush glittered with condensation, and the humidity made it feel like he'd just stepped out of a hot shower, an analogy he never would have thought to make before yesterday. Lupus was sweating his balls off inside his infiltration skin. _Infiltration skin. I really am moving up in the world._

Sharington Arms, a mid range but high quality Cornerian military technology firm, produced the line of stealth infiltration suits that Cadman had provided them with for this mission. They masked heat signatures and other biosigns produced by the wearer, allowing them to avoid tripping most standard sensors. They wouldn't be enough to get them past Installation 214's more advanced scanners, but that was why they had the schematics and specifications for the installation's security systems on hand. Lupus had asked Cadman where he'd managed to get those, but the dane hadn't been willing to saying much more than, 'I have a contact'

Cadman's cryptic attitude didn't bother Lupus. Most people tended to be closed off and guarded around him, at least if they knew what he did for a living. As a professional thief, he had been involved with plenty of clients who preferred to remain anonymous. Lupus had also dealt with more than his fair share of middlemen in his all too short life. Though, considering the domineering, alpha male personality Lupus had observed in Cadman, it surprised him that the other canine would ever stoop so low as to be nothing more than a functionary. Whoever he worked for must have been powerful indeed.

Then there was what his sister had told him. He put it out of his mind, they'd deal with that when the job was done. For now they all needed to focus. Suffice it to say, he wished Cadman hadn't insisted Sarah go with him. There'd been no way to refuse without it look suspicious.

"I'm going to feel disgusting when I get out of this," whispered Jax, the lion walking behind Lupus, keeping an eye on their rear and running a masker over their trail, covering their footprints as they moved. The soft, moist dirt meant that every step created a noticeable indentation. In the jungle it would probably be gone a few hours after they'd left it, but no one was willing to take a chance on that. This had to go off without a hitch. Infiltrating a top secret Federation science facility demanded perfection, and so perfection was what Lupus aimed to provide.

"You can always take a shower," Lupus said, tail wagging behind him. That water shower had been incredible. Lupus couldn't wait to find out what other luxuries were commonplace in the rest of Lylat, now that he'd escaped that hell hole of a birthplace.

There was a smile in Jax's voice when he answered, "Yeah. Guess I can."

 _"If you two are going to chat, do it over a private channel."_

Lupus arched an eyebrow and said, "Yes sir." The last word dripped with sarcasm. He would have done that, except that would mean cutting Sarah out of the conversation between him and Jax. Lupus didn't like keeping things from his sister, no matter how minor or banal. They had shared everything growing up, and Lupus intended to share everything with her until the day he died. _Then again, I did promise perfection._

"Touchy, isn't he?" Jax muttered, the two of them switching over to a private channel. Jax brushed his shot tail against Lupus's scruffy lupine one.

"Controlling," Lupus agreed. _I don't like taking orders. And I like that our handler is micromanaging even less._

Ten more minutes of trudging through the jungle and the underbrush started to clear. Lupus could see lights up ahead. Bright, white, artificial lights, the beams moving in a consistent pattern. He advanced a half dozen more meters, then hunkered down behind a bush, pulling Jax down with him. "Cadman," he said into his throat mic, switching back to the regular team channel. "This the place?"

 _"Yes. Sarah and I will move forward first and get the side door to the cargo bay unlocked. I'll signal when I want you to come in. In the meantime stay there, and keep quiet."_

Jax snorted, and Lupus couldn't help but roll his eyes, even as he switched back to the private comm. Either Cadman thought they were amateurs, or whatever they were after was a lot more important to him and his mysterious, unnamed employer than he'd been letting on. Either way, the lupine could sense the tension in the dane's voice.

Lupus glanced to his left and blinked three times. A screen came up showing the position of Cadman and Sarah on his motion tracker. They appeared as two bright yellow dots, both of them moving towards the cargo entrance on the east side of the building. They stopped when they reached it, and Lupus smiled when he heard Sarah humming a few idle notes to herself on the commline, hacking away at the security for the entrance, and happy as a clam to be doing it. Nothing made his sister happier than picking a lock.

"Lupus." Jax tapped him on the shoulder.

"I see them," Lupus replied. A pair of red dots had just appeared on his motion tracker, doing a circuit around the compound. "Guards. They're patrol is ahead of schedule." Lupus bit the inside of his lip. They weren't all that far ahead. Probably just a fast watch. He didn't have time to worry about it. "Follow my lead," he told Jax. The lion nodded.

The two of them crouch-ran out of the bushes, keeping their heads down and dodging around the search lights. His helmet highlighted areas with laser fields, and he stepped gingerly by those as well. Security here was good, tight. But it had all the flaws inherent to Federation facilities. They didn't really expect to need it. They were prepared technologically for the worst, but not psychologically. The design tended to show that, with smaller, but no less obvious gaps that would never have been left unfilled by a more paranoid mind. _I have a feeling we won't be able to rely on that for very long if we pull this off. Hell, even if we don't pull this off just the fact that we tried will be a wakeup call._

They reached a stack of containers and ducked behind it. Jax reached for his sidearm, but Lupus put a hand out to stop him. "We need to do this quiet. You remember how to snap a neck, right babe?"

"Yeah. I do." Jax nodded, his expression turning a bit more grim. It would be quick and painless, but Lupus knew killing wasn't always easy for Jax. In the heat of the moment, to protect Lupus or Sarah or himself, Jax could be an unstoppable killing machine. But he wasn't cold blooded about it. _He'll do what needs to be done though. He knows better than to be my better half all the time,_ Lupus thought to himself.

Lupus held up three fingers, signaling that they would go on the count of three. _1._

The two red blips approached on his motion tracker. Lupus disengaged the filtration feature on his helmet, his nose twitching to pick up their scents. Sweat, deodorant, and that distinct odor dogs always seemed to carry with them. _2._

Lupus took a deep breath, steadying himself as the red blips moved past their hiding place. Neither of them stopped, and Lupus picked up the sound of idle conversation. Someone seemed to be having problems with his girlfriend. "...so I says to her, if you think I'm spending ninety creds on a damn toaster oven, you're outta your mind!"

The inanity of the conversation almost made Lupus laugh. Instead he brought that third finger down, and he and Jax burst from cover, quick and quiet. The two canine guards didn't have time to do more than let out strangled gurgles as the bones in their necks snapped in two. They were dead before Lupus or Jax caught them, keeping them from falling and making any sort of noise.

"I promise I'll buy you a toaster oven if you want one," Jax said, the two of them having deposited the still warm bodies in a darkened corner, out of sight of any cameras or search lights.

"I wouldn't know what do with it," Lupus said, a smirk playing on the edge of his muzzle. "But thanks doll." Matter of the toaster oven resolved, Lupus took a quick look around before expanding the range of his motion tracker. Once he was satisfied there would be no more unexpected blips to sneak up on them, he tapped his mic and said, "Sarah, how's the door coming?"

 _"Almost through. Problem?"_

"We just ran into two security personnel. We neutralized them, but we're out of position now. Alright if we come to you?" Lupus asked, tapping his foot against the concrete ground.

 _"Fine with me."_

"Copy. We're coming to you."

Lupine and feline broke cover again and dashed through the courtyard, nimbly avoiding the security measures for a second time. When they reached Cadman and Sarah Lupus crouched down in the darkness and caught his breath. "I assume the cameras are all non-functioning."

"Yes." Cadman looked over at him, looking somehow even more imposing in the form fitting infiltration skin. "They'll be playing looped footage. It won't trick anyone who's really paying attention, so we need to make this quick."

"Agreed." Lupus nodded. "Sarah?"

"Shut up."

Lupus snapped his muzzle shut and held a finger to his face plate. Sarah was in the zone, and he should have known better than to bother her. It would take her as long as it took her, and him asking for status updates every five seconds wouldn't change a damn thing.

It took her a few more moments, but Sarah broke through the lock's encryption with a smile and a fist pump. She tapped a button and the door opened. "Nice work, sis," Lupus said, patting her on the shoulder.

"I'll go first," Cadman said, moving to the front of the pack with a level of grace and economy of movement Lupus wouldn't have thought possible for someone as large as him. More than just muscle then.

"Be my guest," Lupus replied, pulling out his sidearm. Jax and Sarah did the same, and the four of them moved into the base.

They passed through the cargo loading and offloading area. The room was piled high with crates and barrels, all of them with various hazard symbols on them. Lupus was thankful for his rebreather when he noticed that several were marked 'biohazard.' There were two trucks in the garage as well, each of them heavily armored and marked with the symbol for the Zonessian branch of the Lylat Federation Security Forces. Whatever they transported in and out of here must have been valuable. Lupus had seen armored trucks for banks with less plating and fewer shield emitters.

Accessing the proper interior of the facility was easier than Lupus had been expecting. "Someone left the door unlocked," Sarah grumbled, looking disappointed that she wouldn't have the opportunity to pick another lock.

"That'd be our contact," Cadman explained, pushing the door open and checking the corners for any potential hostiles.

"Wish we'd had more contacts back home," Jax muttered, stepping through the door next, followed by Sarah. Lupus brought up the rear.

"Be glad you didn't," Cadman said, voice gruff as they started down the corridors. All of them were stark white, holographic signs showing where labs, scanners, decontamination rooms, and other areas of interest were. "They tend not to be reliable."

Lupus's ears perked at those words. He didn't like the sound of that. "Can we trust this one?"

Cadman snorted. "I trust her about as far as I can throw her."

 _So it is a her. Interesting. That's more than he told us at the briefing. And it confirms Sarah's story. Not that I didn't believe her._ Some of the laboratories had glass windows to provide a look inside of them, and Lupus couldn't help but try and get a peek into this classified and forbidden realm. They were mostly just full of lab equipment and specimen vials. One thing that did catch his interest was a warning hologram flashing in the middle of one door that said, "Nanite Replication Project in Process, Do NOT Open Unless Cleared."

They were approaching an elevator. Lupus glanced at the reflective metal doors and asked, "How far down?"

Cadman typed in a security code and called the lift. The doors slid open and the group stepped in. He hit the button for one of the sublevels and the doors slid shut. With a slight jolt the lift kicked into motion, taking them deep below the facility's ground level. With a look of grim determination, Cadman said to Lupus, "Far."

* * *

Talia Swift sat in the Security Station at Installation 214, sipping coffee in a disposable cup, and watching the footage on the security cameras. Nothing but empty corridors this late at night. The science staff had all gone home, and there wasn't much more than a cleaning robot to be seen. Of course the footage was all looped, and no one realized that moving through the corridors were four heavily armed and lethal individuals intent on stealing one of the research facility's most precious secrets.

To be honest though, Talia was having second thoughts. She'd made a million credits doing this, more than enough to set her up comfortably with a new identity and a new life on any world in Lylat or beyond. A life of comfort and luxury. Something within her though just chafed at the knowledge of who had given her that money. _The brute._

A million credits was a lot of money though. It was also already hers. Safely deposited in a secondary account that no one but her and the private Papetoonian bank knew about. Her mind kept flicking back to the night before, when the dane had arrived at her apartment, paid her, withheld the second half of the payment, and then assaulted her, finally leaving with the ominous promise of much, much more. _...Or something else._

Talia had spent a good deal of her life in the Zonessian Security Service. As idyllic as her world looked, she'd seen it's underbelly. She'd rescued plenty of helpless children from abusive conditions, and plenty of young women from slavery. She'd seen the results of letting a man like Dane have free run of the galaxy. _He already paid you. It's not your problem. After tonight you'll never have to be on the same planet as him if you don't want to be._

There were other security staff sitting around her in the command post. Most of them weren't paying much attention, doing little more than giving the monitors a cursory glance every now and then. Except for one of them, a bulldog named Jake who looked almost too young to be drinking anything stronger than warm milk. When Talia looked over at him he had a troubled expression on his muzzle. _Don't get involved. What if it's something you need to know about though?_

Against her better judgement she walked over and set a hand on his shoulder. "There a problem Jake?"

The bulldog looked up at her and said, "It's Otis and Mark."

"What about them?" Talia asked, putting on a smile and trying to look reassuring.

"They should have passed by my monitors by now," Jake told her, giving his screens a suspicious look.

 _What?_ "They aren't scheduled to patrol for another..." she glanced at her own watch, "Ten minutes," Talia said, looking down at Jake with a curious eye, and trying to mask her worry.

"What?" Jake looked at her, confused. "My watch says..."

Talia felt something inside of her wilt and die. The kid was going off of his own watch. And the kid had been in charge of signaling patrols. _Otis and Mark probably thought it was a random change in schedule, like the one I did last week. Oh fuck._ "Let me see that."

Jake, looking embarrassed, took the watch off of his wrist and handed it to her. She glanced at it, compared it to hers, and shook her head. "Your watch is fast. Really fast. When did you set this?"

"Ummm..." Jake looked about ready to cry as every eye in the room settled on him. "I mean...I thought...oh shit. I uh...I set all my clocks ahead so that uh...well, so that I get to bed and wake up umm...early, you know? Kinda have..."

Talia would have felt bad for him if she weren't boiling over in rage. "Son of a bitch Jake," she bit out through a clenched beak, not caring at the fact that the expression in this case went from a simple insult of parenting to a racial slur. "You need to fucking tell me these things, got it?" Everyone in the room was looking between her and Jake, shocked at the outrage on their normally bored, dispassionate leader. Talia had never been prone to getting excited at work. It had been a sedentary, yawn inducing, pointless job that she'd taken to get her last five years in before she qualified for full retirement benefits. Taking a deep, calming breath, she said, "Someone contact those two and see what their position is. With any luck they've stuck to schedule." She knew that hadn't happened. If they'd stuck to schedule they would have told her that they'd been signaled early, and then she would have told them to stay put until the regular time. _This is all going tits up. Fucking kids._

"Ma'am?"

"What is it?" Talia moved across the room to one of her other officers.

"Neither Mark nor Otis is responding," he said, looking up at her.

"Check their bio-monitors," Talia told him, following standard procedure. _They better not be what I think they are._

The officer tapped in a command, and the bio-monitors in their uniform insignia popped up in holographic form. Talia stared at the flat lines for half a second before straightening up and saying, "Lockdown." _Double cross it is then. Sorry Mr. Dane, but I think your luck just ran out._

* * *

"Wow," Lupus said as he stepped through the vault door. "I have never seen something so antiquated."

Lining three walls of the room were rows and rows of slots, each of them containing a single, rectangular, four centimeter long memory card. There must have been hundreds of them. Each of them contained information on classified research projects being conducted by the Federation government. All of them so secret that there could be no risk of a remote hack, and so the schematics and specifications of each one existed on a single, non networked, memory card.

"Antiquated maybe," Sarah said, walking up to one of the walls. She started scanning the labels, looking for the one marked "Project Reach." "But the only way they could be more secure would be writing it down and storing it on pen and paper."

"I suppose." Lupus and Cadman both went to the remaining two walls and started looking. This was not an ideal situation. They were trapped in an enclosed room, only one exit, and they would have to do a visual search among hundreds of different memory cards to find the one they were looking for. All the while, every second that passed was a second where someone in the security post might realize they were looking at footage of empty hallways being looped, and that two bio-signatures from their contingent were registering as flatlined. _Our contact might have been able to game the system not to set the alarm off as soon as we offed those two guys, but if anyone decides to check on them..._

"I wonder what all of these are," Sarah muttered, tacing her fingers a few centimeters above each label as she searched.

"Probably things we don't ever want to know about," Jax said from where he stood in the vault doorway. "You know government secrets. They're secret for a reason."

"Can't have the masses knowing too much, now can we?" Lupus said with a chuckle.

"Can it all of you," Cadman barked. "I found it."

Lupus bristled at Cadman's tone. His team might have been a little chatty, but it helped, rather than hindered, their focus. It calmed their nerves and kept everyone in sync. _Eye on the prize. You won't be working for him much longer._ "You sure?"

"Project Reach." Cadman held up the card, the memory storage device encased in light blue plastic. Cadman slipped it into his kit bag and said, "Alright, let's get out of here before..."

 _Oh honey don't say it,_ Lupus thought, just as the alarm klaxons began blaring all through the facility.


	18. And Hope to Die

**Chapter Eighteen**

 _ **...and Hope to Die**_

 _That bitch doublecrossed us._ Cadman could have screamed. The things he would do to that avian bitch when he found her. Oh, he'd make her regret ever betraying him. And he'd have fun doing it. For now though, he needed to survive.

They'd made it out of the vault. Just barely. The lifts had shut down the moment the alarms went off, but there was a secondary ladder for emergencies. He doubted the designers had ever expected it to be used by an infiltration team to circumvent the security protocols. Typical Federation incompetence. They'd probably never expected anyone to get near the vault who wasn't authorized.

Now though, they were trapped in the main corridor, a dozen meters from the exit, taking fire from security personnel. They were hiding around the corners, and the walls and floor were pitted with black impact marks from laser fire. "We've gotta get out of here."

"Working on that," Lupus said in that irritating lisp of his. How such a flaming...it didn't matter. He was competent. He shot straight. And it wasn't like Cadman turned his nose up to shoving it inside a man if that's what was around. "Sarah, if we get you to that door, you can hack the lock, right?"

"Sure." Sarah took a few potshots around the corner of the wall, none of them hit. "Delicate work to do while being shot at though."

This was all going tits up. And, in a rare moment of self-doubt, Cadman wondered if it had all been his fault. If he had pushed too hard with Talia, been too rough and scared her into doing something stupid. Something like this. If Vesper found out...Cadman didn't want to think about that. The price of failure would be high. And Vesper didn't care if it was the first time it had ever happened.

"Grenade." That was Jax. The lion stacked up behind Sarah was holding a spherical yellow and white explosive, his thumb hovering over the arming device.

"You throw that," Cadman warned, "You risk blowing the door controls."

More laser fire poured down the corridor, some of it nearly hitting Lupus. The wolf swore and crouched back behind cover. "We can worry about that if it happens. If we don't get rid of those guys now, we're never getting out of here."

"Agreed." Cadman nodded at Jax. Jax, much to Cadman's frustration, looked to Lupus for confirmation before priming and then tossing the grenade.

There were panicked cries of "grenade!" followed by scampering feet. Then, a deafening explosion and burst of light and heat that washed down the corridor, singing the walls and filling the air with the scent of burning fur and charred flesh. That sickening reek however was the most reassuring scent Cadman had picked up since this whole thing began. It meant they'd gotten the bastards.

Without a word they broke cover and charged down the corridor. Lupus and Sarah, on point, sprayed suppressing fire in front of them, keeping the area ahead clear until they'd reached the door. Cadman surveyed the area. Five bodies, burned and bloody. All dead. Good. Dead enemies weren't a threat. None of them looked to be Talia though. For a moment Cadman considered handing off the data card to one of these hired hands and then heading out to search for the woman. He'd enjoy the look on her face as he executed every one of her people. He'd enjoy the tears that came with what he did next even more.

"Okay, so the door controls are a little singed," Sarah said. At Cadman's oath, the female lupine added, "Don't worry." She pulled off the touch panel and looked at the mechanism inside. "I can do a manual override. We'll have to force the doors afterward though."

"Do it," Cadman barked. He almost cuffed someone when Sarah looked to Lupus, once more, for confirmation. They hadn't been doing that earlier. It didn't matter. They were almost out of here. He could upbraid them later for it.

Sarah started working on the door controls, her fingers moving in efficient, unhurried motions. That at least marked her as a professional. Cadman was about to compliment her on it when he felt something hot against his spine. A laser barrel, recently discharged. His eyes widened, and a spike of fear shot through him before he could bring it under control. "Jax?" He was the only one Cadman couldn't see.

Lupus, in front of him, aimed his own weapon at the dane. "Drop the gun and hand me the card."

"What the fuck?" Cadman dropped the gun, but he made no motion to retrieve the card. This could not be happening. There was no way in hell this was happening. Who the fuck did these people think they were?

"Hand it over, or I'll pull it off your corpse," Lupus said flatly.

Cadman growled, gnashing his teeth. "You realize what's happening? We're wasting time. Talia's people could come around here any second and mow us all down."

"That'd be a shame," Lupus replied. "Hand over the card and that won't happen."

"What's this about, huh?" Cadman didn't have much choice. He reached into his bag and handed Lupus the card. "Someone paying you more? Talia maybe?"

"Nope." Lupus shook his head. The doors started to open, slowly. "Jax, go give them a push."

Cadman felt the barrel of the gun against his spine leave. Sarah came around next to her brother. Behind him he could hear the doors squealing as Jax forced them all the way open. "At least tell me what's going on," Cadman said, feeling both cornered and bored at the same time. These scum wouldn't kill him. If they did, Vesper would have their hides. Cadman was still useful to him. And he hadn't screwed up here. Not yet. They were going to get out.

"Funny thing," Sarah said, stepping closer to Cadman. "We didn't quite trust you. So I went ahead and followed you when you went to meet your contact. Brother and his boyfriend needed some alone time anyway."

Cadman frowned. "What are you getting at?"

A sharp, sudden pain shot through Cadman's guts. The distant, rational part of his mind identified the sensation immediately. He'd been stabbed. "You don't look that hard to break...or something else?" Sarah bit out through grit teeth. Another sharp pain, and then another. Cadman was losing focus. He could feel the hot blood spurting out of him, dripping onto the ground. "Compensate you some other way?" One final pain and then he crumpled to the ground. He looked up at Sarah and Lupus, and at Jax as the lion came back to loom behind the two. He saw pure hatred in their eyes. A pure hatred he'd seen only a few times before. But usually in the context of what came after those words Sarah had uttered back to him. "You can have fun rotting in hell with my father. But don't worry, we'll get this card to your employer."

Sarah pressed a boot to his wounds and kicked him over. Looking at them as they retreated, and the life seeped out of him, Cadman said just one more thing. "Who are you people?"

Lupus stopped, looked down at him, and seemed to consider it for a moment. "Us?" he said, a smile that did nothing to make Cadman feel any better spread across his muzzle. "We're Star Wolf."

And with that, the last light of the dark, despicable life of Cadman Dane went out.

* * *

Talia stared at the monitors, trying to process what had just happened. Five of her people were dead. The intruders had escaped. But not before turning on one of their own. Dane. The dane who had threatened her life. Who she knew had just been drooling at the thought of forcing her to the ground and doing the most unspeakable things he could think of to her. They'd killed him. Stabbed him mere seconds before reinforcements arrived. Now, they'd disappeared into the jungle. She had no intention of ordering her security personnel to pursue. There was no point. She didn't have the people, and that jungle would mask their thermal signatures.

Reaching behind her she grabbed onto a chair and sat down, heavily. Reality was beginning to close in on her. She'd betrayed her country. Given vital, top secret information to Ascended knew who, all for the sake of money and a fulfilling retirement. A rich, hedonistic retirement. Then, she'd nearly died instead. She'd nearly been raped and killed for not having exactly the information that psychopath wanted. She'd survived that, and then this whole mess had started. But now she'd survived that too. There would be questions. Investigations. She might not get through unscathed. But she'd done her job well. She knew there wouldn't be any trace of her own misdeeds. It would all just look like a foul up of leadership. She might get discharged for incompetence. No pension then. But she had that sweet million credits.

A smile curved her beak as she thought about that. To hell with her pension. To hell with an honorable end to her career. She'd invest half of it, and spend the rest getting drunk off her ass and screwing half the Zitza arcology. She'd earned it. Decades of service to the Federation, and all they'd been going to give her was a retirement medal and a lousy pension that'd let her live comfortably on one of the lower levels. No. She didn't give a damn about whatever the Federation had just lost. All she cared about was getting through the next six months of inquiries and investigations, calling the parents and next of kin of those who'd died, and then getting the hell out of here to somewhere with lots of drinks, and lots of men.

She realized her staff was looking at her. Wiping the little smile off her face, she stood up and said, "Alright, you all know your jobs. We've drilled for this. A lot. Let's do them, and make sure that no one from internal affairs has any reason to think we did anything other than those jobs. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," came the chorused response.

Talia set to work, a deep feeling of satisfaction inside of her. It had been bloody. It hadn't gone the way it was supposed to. But when she moved into a nice apartment at the top levels of Zitza, and threw her first big party with all her friends, it'd all have been worth it. Glancing at the screen that showed the corpse of that dane, lying in a puddle of his own blood, Talia amended her sentiments. With that scum dead, and gone from the lives of anyone in Lylat, it had all been worth it already. Well, well worth it.

* * *

Industrial Sector K-7 looked to have been abandoned for quite some time. James's boots crunched against the shattered glass of a window, making him wince at the loud noise. Located near the bottom level of Eladard City, and surrounded by high rises and elevated train tracks on every side, the area looked to have been out of use since at least the time of the Third Great Recession. At least, that was Peppy's estimation. James was willing to take it at face value. The last thing he needed right now was to set Peppy off on some historical topic. The man could be downright didactic when he got going.

"Why is it always old industrial sectors?" James muttered, stopping to shine a light on a bit of graffiti. He held back a chuckle at the rather lewd commentary it provided about a local Eladardian house of ill-repute.

"Probably because no one in their right mind would want to come here in the middle of the night," Peppy whispered back, looking over his shoulder.

"Good point." James and Peppy continued creeping forward, sticking to the shadows as much as possible.

Earlier in the night they'd used Gwen and Janice's ship to scan the city, looking for the isotope that Argus had infused into the Arwing as a tracking device. What they'd found had been...odd. Multiple signatures had been pinged throughout the city, as if there were more than one Arwing here. In order to try and narrow their search, they'd analyzed the data to find the ages of the various signatures, and then connected them, from oldest to newest. The shape that had come up had thrown them all for a loop. A spider's web. _It's damned creepy._

"What do you think of Gwen?" James asked, breaking the silence as they stepped around the corner of another building. Still nothing. None of these buildings were large enough to hold the Arwing. Their interior spaces were cluttered with assembly lines, spare parts, and containers. That, and none of the doors were wide enough to accommodate the Arwing's wingspan.

Peppy glanced back at him, almost invisible in the stealth suits that Gwen and Janice had provided them. The two women were posted in one of the nearby skyscrapers, providing cover. The stealth suits were top of the line, with active camouflage that would blend them into their surroundings, and noise cancellation to keep conversation quiet and footsteps inaudible. James could have a screaming match with his team and no one would hear a thing. "You're asking me that now?"

"Sure." James waved his flashlight along another window. Nothing inside but junk. "It helps me focus."

"Thinking about women?" Peppy sounded incredulous.

"Why not?" James replied. "Plus, I mean, it gives me a reason to live. You know, getting laid at the end of this."

"Jeez," Peppy sighed. "You don't lack for confidence do you?"

"Not really," James answered, a smarmy grin on his face. "So, Gwen?"

Peppy sighed again, crackling static on the team mic. "Sure. Why not?"

" _Yeah James. Go for her, she's got a sweet rack."_ That was Vixy, breaking in from the other side of the industrial sector. She was with Archer, combing the place. They'd eventually meet up in the middle. Hopefully they'd be able to drive anyone else around here out of hiding, though James knew they'd likely have needed a platoon of Federation soldiers to do an effective sweep and clear of the area.

"She does. Can she hear me right now?"

" _Yes."_ Gwen's country Papetoon accent answered. _"And not in a million years James. What kinda girl do you think I am?"_

"A very, very attractive one. Who also happens to be very attracted to me," James said, not missing a beat. "I promise, I'm a perfect gentleman."

" _Pfft."_ Vixy, making an explosive noise with her lips.

"Shut up."

" _What? James, you are so not a perfect..."_

"I meant shut up, I think I found something." James stopped in front of an abandoned elevator shaft. It led underground, and was marked with hazard tape. That wasn't what had caught his attention however. Swept through the chipping paint on the doors was a set of feline claw marks. And they looked fresh. His suit was telling him there was still some living organic residue. Just the normal things you'd find under a cat's claws, but if those marks had been here since the place went under, they'd have been dead by now.

"I don't know James." Peppy shook his head. "This doesn't feel right."

"No. It doesn't," James agreed. "But it's the first thing that's felt anything since we got here. Vixy, Archer, come to my position."

" _Aye."_

" _James,"_ Gwen's voice again, _"If you go down there we can't cover you."_

"We'll contact you if we need anything," James assured her. Staring at those claw marks he had the feeling he'd found something. Or been led to something.

Janice's voice this time, _"Depending how far you go down, comms might not work. You should wait for us."_

Vixy and Archer arrived, and James said, "Negative. It'll be close quarters down there. I want to take as few people as possible. In fact, just one person is going to go with me."

All eyes turned to James at that. "Who?" Peppy asked, though his tone told him he already knew.

"Vixy. You piloted the Arwing. Think you could fly it out of there?" James asked.

"Absolutely." Vixy set her shoulders, her expression determined. "Assuming, that is, there's a way out of there."

James smiled and looked back at the elevator doors. "I'd be willing to bet real money there is."

" _Why?"_ Gwen asked.

"Because," James said, walking up to the doors and pushing the call button. "Whoever has the Arwing wants us to find it. That much is pretty obvious at this point. And if he wants us to find it, he wants us to take it."

"That sounds like a trap," Archer noted.

"Mmhmm." James turned back to them, Vixy beside him. "Keep things clear here. I have our next move."

"And what is that?" Peppy asked.

James smiled and stepped into the elevator. "Spring the trap."

* * *

A/N: And so the penultimate chapter arrives! Only one more after this, and then we can close the book so to speak. I'll have a little more to say once that one is posted. For now though, Cadman is dead. Thank. God. A more loathsome being I have never created.

Also, apologies that this wasn't out yesterday. There were some technical issues on FF's side. See you next Friday!


	19. Here's Where the Story Ends

**Chapter Nineteen**

 _ **Here's Where the Story Ends**_

The elevator doors rattled shut, and the lift started down. Vixy took a deep breath, calming her nerves. She gave the grip of her pistol a reassuring squeeze. She could handle whatever they were about to come up against. She'd handled herself just fine in that gunfight on BR-558, and this couldn't be that much different. Except that they were going underground. Far underground, judging by how long this was taking. "Have I ever told you I don't like underground spaces?"

"Really?" James looked at her, worry in his expression.

"Yeah." Vixy nodded. "You remember that high school trip we took to the mountain caves in Dakor province?"

"Sure. Oh."

Vixy could tell he was replaying the memory in his mind. She'd gotten about twenty feet into the cave system, one with overhead lights, guard rails, and a gift shop, before she had to sit out the rest of the trip. It was claustrophobia. She did fine in other enclosed spaces, but underground, with all that weight and rock and metal on top of her... "I'll be fine."

"Okay." James put a hand on her shoulder. "I trust you. You'll do fine. Just focus on getting to that Arwing, and flying out of here."

"Right." Vixy made a conscious effort not to watch the sublevels ticking down. "What makes you think I'm going to be able to fly out of here?"

James frowned. "Because I think we're being led to the Arwing. Because I think whoever has it right now has some agenda that's best served by having us get it back."

"And what makes you think that?" Vixy probed, distracting herself as they passed the tenth sublevel.

"Because," James sighed. "It's all been too damn easy."

"Easy? We've had to chase this thing halfway across the system. Asteroid mining colonies, and now a hostile planet," Vixy said. "What in the world makes you think this was easy?"

"Gwen and Janice for one thing," James answered.

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. They just happen to be here with exactly what we need to find the thing? I don't doubt their orders were legitimate, and I don't think there's a huge conspiracy here," James went on. "But someone arranged for them to be here, and I'd say it's probably the exact same person who arranged those dots in a spider web, and left a claw mark on the elevator doors for us to find. We're being toyed with, and we're being offered just what we're looking for."

"Okay." Vixy flicked her tail. "Then what's our move?"

"Like I said," James responded. "Spring the trap."

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors opened. James and Vixy both raised their weapons and activated the night vision on their suits. A long, empty corridor stretched out in front of them, cast in a gloomy, green glow. They moved forward, James taking point. The walls down here weren't metal or concrete. Instead they were carved stone. Vixy ran a hand across the stone, and picked up a cold condensation. And then her hand landed on something smooth and round. Her eyes widened. "Is that..."

"A skull." James nodded. "Yeah. We're in the catacombs."

"Uh huh." A shiver ran down Vixy's spine. So, she was underground, with millions of metric tons of rock, concrete, and steel hanging over her head, and now she was going to have to deal with being surrounded by dead things. And... "What is that?" She pointed downwards at a long, crackly looking thing.

"That'd be a shed epidermal layer," James replied. "Eladard's natives are reptiles."

"Oh. God." Vixy stepped gingerly over it, keeping her eyes forward. So, millions of tons of all sorts of heavy things, skulls, ribs, leg bones, and all that, plus the shed epidermal layers of a thousand generations of native Eladardians. "I want a raise."

James snorted. "Me too." He pulled out his hand scanner. "We're close. Few hundred meters. We're coming to a turn, so keep your eyes up."

"Right."

As they closed in on the turn, Vixy felt her hackles rising. This was definitely too easy. No resistance. They were in a straight, narrow corridor, with no cover. If the Arwing was being guarded, then whoever was doing it was utterly incompetent. If they weren't, they would have been watching that corridor, filled it with motion sensors, and then filled the entire place with laser fire the moment one of them tripped up. Instead...nothing.

It was possible that they did have sensors, and that they'd been tripping them the whole time, but then that might have been part of the plan too. None of this made any sense to Vixy. Why steal the Arwing only to let someone steal it back? If you didn't want it for yourself, or you didn't want to sell it, why take it in the first place?

James stopped, and Vixy stacked up behind him. They'd come to the turn. James looked down at his scanner and said, "It's right in there. Large room. And I'm detecting a shaft leading all the way up to the surface."

"Did they gift wrap it?" Vixy asked, cracking a joke to try and ignore the reminder that they were underground. She'd managed to forget about that for a few minutes earlier.

"Nah. I don't think so," James replied. She could see him smiling behind his visor.

"Rude. Shall we?"

"Sure." James stuck his head around the corner, and then jerked back as a plasma bolt seared past and splattered onto the wall behind him. "Shit."

"Did your scanner not pick up anything?"

James shook his head. "Probably stealth suited, just like us."

"Okay. Plan?"

James reached behind him and pulled a cylindrical object from his belt. "Stun grenade. Special make, it'll fry their suit systems too."

"Gwen?"

"Janice actually." James primed the grenade.

"I feel like this has been done," Vixy pointed out.

"Nah." James tossed the grenade. "Not a stun grenade."

"Okay."

"Cover your ears," James warned her.

 _Blam!_

"Go!"

Vixy pushed off the wall and followed James into the room. She spotted three hostiles. Each of them in stealth suits and armed with plasma rifles. She aimed and fired, center of mass. The plasma bolts from her pistol impacted with wet popping noises. Screams filled her ears, and then nothing.

"Clear!" James called.

"Clear," Vixy echoed. She noticed something then. "Hey, these guys are Harcots."

"Are they?" James asked, stepping beside her.

"Four arms and..." she peeled the mask off of one. "Yup. Three jaws. Squid head."

James shrugged. "Mercs. Harcots are known for that sort of thing. Any House markings?"

"Where would they be?"

"Neck."

Vixy checked. Harcots were formed into Houses. Mostly. Rex, Shadow, Dread, and about a dozen other major ones. She checked the neck, looking for one of the recognizable symbols. "Nope."

"Alright. Probably just freelance or exiles." James breathed a sigh of relief. "No blood debt then."

"Right." Vixy stood up and looked over at the Arwing. It shone, even in the dim, barely present light of a few lanterns, it shone. There was nothing subtle about the prototype. It was meant to be seen. A signal to Lylat of Space Dynamics's new approach to engineering. A sign that the last era of space travel was ending, and another one was beginning. Vixy found it extraordinarily egotistical on the part of both Argus Phoenix and Beltino Toad, but then she could be extraordinarily egotistical about her own skills, so she couldn't really fault them for wanting to show off. "Well, I guess I better get this thing out of here. And James?"

"Yeah?" James looked up at her as he gave the area another sweep with his scanner.

"You were right. This is way too easy."

"Keep alert. Go straight to the carrier. Coordinates are in your scanner," James said.

"I will. Try not to get lost on your way back to the elevator."

James smirked. "I'll do my best. Think there's demons down here?"

James meant it as a joke, but as Vixy looked around the walls, with their smooth stone and, even in here, shed epidermal layers and mounted skulls, she gave it a moment's actual consideration. "Yes."

"Great. Maybe I'll luck out and it'll be a sex demon," James replied, not missing a beat.

Vixy scanned her palm print on the cockpit to the Arwing. The canopy opened. Just like that. No one had bothered to erase the authorized list. "Son of a bitch. And also, you better hope so, cuz your balls are bluer than that Cerinian we saw back on Corneria by now, aren't they?"

"Little bit." James had a smarmy little grin on his face as he said it. "Meet you in orbit."

"Meet you there." The canopy closed and James headed out of the room, weapon up and scanner in hand. Vixy powered up the engines and started going through her preflight checks. There had to be something wrong here. There had to be. But, as she went through her checks, nothing came up. Everything was green across the board. And that put a sick feeling in her stomach. Whatever the problem was, and there had to be a problem, she wouldn't know about it until it reared its ugly, possibly fatal head. _Or maybe there isn't a problem. Yeah. Right._

Then she looked up. "Oh shit." There was one thing that whoever was behind this had decided not to hand them. And that was an open door. The shaft, according to the Arwing's sensors, did in fact lead all the way to the surface. However, whatever the door was, it was locked. Opening a comm line to James she said, "Hey McCloud. Someone forgot to open the garage door."

A huff came back as static. _"Then blow it open. We don't have time for this."_

"You could have Archer try and finesse it," Vixy suggested as she linked her scanner to the Arwing's navigational computer. A waypoint was displayed showing the position of the civilian carrier they'd be rendezvousing with.

" _I could. But that'd take time. And I don't like you being all alone down there. Could be more mercs."_

"You worried about me?" A little smile tugged at the corners of Vixy's lips.

" _A little. I mean, Gwen's apparently not interested so..."_

"Dick."

" _Kinda."_

"Alright. I'm gonna blow this thing. See you on that carrier." Vixy powered up the VTOL engines and started hovering her way up. Once she'd gotten about halfway to the top she tilted the stick and turned her nose to the exit. She tapped a button on her stick to switch lasers from rapid fire to charge, and built up a glowing ball of spun plasma from her nose cannon. "Suck it door." She let the charge shot go, then boosted forward. The plasma impacted, melted the door and Vixy and the Arwing shot straight through, trailing smoke and molten rock. "Wooooo!"

She sent a ping back to James and the team to tell them she was clear, then headed for space. Before she could relax however her proximity alarms started beeping. She checked her scanners and saw two ships pulling in behind her. Her warning system flashed an "Enemy Lock" warning. Vixy swore and went evasive, shunting power to her shields at the same time. The cockpit shuddered with the impact of laser fire. "Bastards!"

Vixy had two choices, she could turn and fight, and create a spectacle over Eladard City that would be broadcast system wide, and quite possibly turn into an interplanetary incident, or she could try to outrun them, make it to the carrier, and then call for help. After all, she'd been shot at first. Every instinct in Vixy told her to take the first option. She was a fighter, and the idea of tucking tail between her legs and running filled her with a feeling of shame. But the mission came first, and she knew that if Star Fox caused a major incident on their first mission, aside from the one on BR-558 which hadn't been entirely their fault, it'd be the end of anyone wanting to hire the team. "Fuck, let's see what these G-diffusers can really do."

Checking her straps Vixy pushed the throttle forward. Her speed increased, and the harassing ships started to fall behind. She could feel the _g_ s pushing against her as she accelerated past the point that the I-diffuser equipped ships could match. She flew out of Eladard's atmosphere followed by a series of sonic booms, and within moments the brown and orange planet was growing smaller and smaller at her back.

She checked her scanners. She could see the carrier up ahead, and her comm system registered a friendly transmission from someone named Rob providing her with docking instructions and a surprisingly sedate request to reduce speed. The pursuing fighters seemed to have backed off. With that in mind, along with a flashing light indicating a critical buildup of pressure in the fuel cell's antimatter injectors, Vixy complied with the request. She pulled back on the throttle and...

* * *

Vixy opened her eyes. They shut again of their own accord. She growled. The damn things were supposed to do what she told them to do. She forced them open and the room she was in started to spin. When she felt like she might throw up she closed them again, and this time let her nose do the work for her.

Antiseptics. Plastic. Tile flooring. There were also some familiar scents. Male. A fox, like her. Cologne. Gross. Whoever it was had no taste. A rabbit too. No. A hare. Hare's and rabbits got pissy if you confused them. This one had better taste in body scents. And finally a lynx. A little bit of machine lubricant followed him. She smiled, that made everything else fall into place. "James?"

"Yeah Vixy?"

The familiar voice was music to her ears. "I'm in hell, aren't I?" Chuckles. She heard the beeping then. Nice and steady. She opened her eyes again, and this time the room didn't spin.

"No, you're in Corneria City General Hospital." Peppy this time.

"Who's paying?" Vixy asked.

"What do you mean?" Archer looked confused.

"Oh." Vixy remembered then. "Corneria. They have free healthcare don't they?"

"I hope so," James said, grinning. "Otherwise this is definitely going under expenses for Argus to deal with."

Vixy laughed, then coughed. "Water?" James was on it. Vixy got a hold of the straw and sucked down about half the glass. "Bedpan?" Everyone's eyes went wide. "Kidding." Relieved expressions all around. "What the hell happened?"

James pursed his lips and said, "We're still waiting for confirmation from Argus, from the black box and the wreck they recovered."

Vixy sat up in bed. Her ass felt sore. How long had she been lying here? "Do we know what happened though? At least provisionally? And how long have I been here?"

"About a day. Since we picked you up over Eladard and got you here. You can thank ROB for that, by the way," Peppy supplied.

"Who's Rob?" Vixy asked.

"A robot. The pilot aboard the carrier," Archer said. "Oh, and his full name is ROB 64, all capitals. He gives you a look when you spell it wrong."

"The robot gives you a look?" Vixy stared at the lynx incredulously. She got the feeling he was anthropomorphizing technology again.

"Okay, so he stares blankly, but I think he can actually be quite expressive," Archer said, holding his hands up defensively.

"Sure." Vixy turned back to James. "Did the Arwing explode?"

"The G-diffusers did," James responded. "You lost consciousness. ROB picked you up, and we all boarded and headed straight here."

"Ah." Vixy sighed. All of that for nothing. Then she had a thought. "Sabotage."

"What?" James's ears perked up. Archer and Peppy moved closer.

"It had to be sabotage," Vixy explained. "You said it was too easy. That it felt like whoever had stolen the Arwing wanted us to have it back. Well, maybe you were right, and they sabotaged it."

"Maybe."

None of them looked all that convinced. "What?"

Archer looked pained as everyone turned to him to explain. "There's no confirmation yet, and sabotage is being considered but..." He trailed off and looked down at his feet. When he looked back up he said, "It looks like a design flaw."

"A design flaw?" Vixy shook her head, then regretted it as everything started to spin again. She shut her eyes and held still for a few moments. Things settled. "What kind of design flaw?"

"It looks like in the process of compensating for especially high g-forces, like when you max out your speed, the Arwing's G-diffusers put a massive amount of pressure on the antimatter injectors in the propulsion system." Archer said.

"So reduce speed," Vixy suggested. "That just means it's redlining. Even I-diffusers do that."

Archer shook his head. "It's different. It's hard to explain but...with the G-diffuser, it looks like it builds up into a feedback loop. Going slower actually increases the pressure, rather than relieves it."

Vixy stared at him. She knew the basics of how space propulsion worked. But she'd never heard of anything like this. "Okay. How do you reduce pressure?"

"Increase speed." Archer bit his lip. "I know. It's counter-intuitive. But, do you see the problem?"

Vixy nodded, a sinking feeling in her stomach. "If slowing down means the thing blows up, you can't stop. Ever. Damn."

"Space Dynamics is trying to suppress the conclusion until they can figure it out definitively, but it looks like it's already leaked," Peppy added. "Space Dynamics stock has fallen off a cliff. Argus says they'll just barely remain solvent, and he's still holding on as owner but...it could be years, or even decades before he's in a position to do anything more than build custom ships based on existing technology."

She should have felt a sense of satisfaction at that. He'd fired her, and then she'd saved his Arwing only for his own stupidity to blow up in her face. That he was now suffering the consequences right along with her...it didn't help. At heart, she just couldn't be that vindictive. Argus was brilliant. A genius in aerospace engineering. "I say it's sabotage."

"Argus thinks so too..." James frowned. "But he can't prove it. And he doubts he'll find the evidence."

Silence fell on the group for a few minutes, then James took something out of his pocket. "What's that?" Vixy asked.

James smiled and held it out to her. It was a patch with a winged, red kitsune on it. "It's the team insignia. Go ahead, put it on."

Vixy looked down at it, turned it over in her hands a few times. Then, with a devilish little smile she said, "The wings make it look like a tail is growing out of its back." She slapped it on, enjoying the crestfallen face that James briefly displayed. "But I love it anyway."

"I told you," muttered Peppy.

"Shut up Peppy," James groused. "They're wings."

Vixy laughed and said, "So, I guess it's official now, huh?"

"What is?" James turned back to her.

With a bright, energetic smile, and a thump of her tail beneath the hospital bed covers, Vixy said, "We're Star Fox."

* * *

 **Epilogue**

It hadn't all gone according to plan. The Arwing yes. What had been an artful job of sabotage was being swallowed by every Cornerian as a critical design flaw. Space Dynamics was bleeding shares and Argus would spend the next ten or fifteen years trying to keep his company from going under. And probably another ten trying to get it back to a position of any real relevance in the Lylat System. Edgar Marcross was ecstatic, and Vesper felt his usual satisfaction from a job well done.

The other bit of business though, with the Interdimensional Warp Gate, had gone less according to plan. Cadman was dead. Killed in the escape. Apparently he'd let his libido overrule his mind in threatening Talia Swift. Vesper found the threat of sexual assault quite distasteful, as had the members of the newly christened Star Wolf team. They'd stabbed Cadman, then made off with the datacard. If they'd tried to sell it to someone else Vesper would have avenged Cadman. They did not however. Instead they brought it to him, and demanded nothing more than the original agreed upon price. Vesper had given it to them, along with a promise that he'd keep an eye on them in the future, in case he needed them.

Cadman's death had meant he had to reshuffle a few of his organizations and projects, but nothing that had taken more than a sleepless night's work. Now, six months later, he was preparing to meet the man he would be selling the Warp Gate schematics to.

Vesper looked out the shuttle viewport at his destination. Cold Station 34, located in the Meteo asteroid belt. A secret research lab for the Federation government. It doubled as a storage facility, keeping thousands of dangerous diseases and alien technologies that had to be kept from the public eye, but also merited study. He was here to meet the head of the facility. A brilliant scientist whose name had managed to escape even Vesper's expansive knowledge. The idea of someone he didn't know and couldn't find out about on his own had so intrigued Vesper that he'd agreed to the man's price, despite it being considerably lower than several other offers.

The shuttle docked, and Vesper was cleared through security in an instant. He held his briefcase which contained the card, and passed it through the scanner. It detected nothing but papers and a few innocent odds and ends. He was ushered through a decon room where he was scanned for harmful bacteria or anything else that might corrupt nearby cleanrooms. They found nothing. Vesper had decontaminated before he arrived. A courtesy.

Once that was done he was brought to a lift. He stepped in, and the doors shut and whisked him not up, but down, towards the center of Cold Station 34's iron and nickel core. When the doors opened again he stepped into a well lit office. He took stock of the surroundings. Comfortable furniture, a hologram displaying Meteo outside, and an odd black flag with a skull and crossbones. The skull was primate, and judging by the condition of the artifact it dated from Fortuna's early sea voyaging period. An eccentricity. Vesper liked those. He filed it away.

Behind the wood desk at the opposite end of the room a man stood up. He was tall, wearing a black jumpsuit and a white labcoat. His face was bearded, and his hair was dark, though displaying the first signs of graying. He was also primate. An ape. Vesper stepped forward and set the briefcase on the desk. "Vesper."

The ape nodded. "You have it?"

"Yes." Vesper held up a hand to forestall the man as he reached for it. "Before I give it to you, I was wondering if you might enlighten me as to why you want it? Do you not have access to something like this here?"

The ape chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "My fields of study are biology and nanotechnology. Therefore, this is something they would keep from me."

"Then why do you want it?" Vesper inquired.

The ape considered him for a moment, and Vesper realize with excitement he was in the presence of a superior mind. Someone who could likely match him thought for thought, move for move. "I seek to peer into the space between spaces. What we call Interdimensional space, but what the Cerinians would call the Ascended Realm."

"And that's all? You wish only to peer into it?" Vesper narrowed his eyes at the ape.

"No. Once I have found it, I intend to take it. Enlightenment and Ascension are the only two paths open to beings such as us, Darius Vesper." The ape used his full name, which he shouldn't have known, then held out a hand. "My name is Andross. And I would ask you if you wish to join me? If you wish to surpass Kilik-Thulu in your plotting? With this," he set his hand on the briefcase, "You very well could."

Darius considered the offer. A superior mind indeed. With a grim smile he looked into Andross's eyes, and he saw in them the fire to remake the universe. He took the hand and said, "I will."

 _ **All Ends Are Beginnings...**_

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ And so we have reached the end. 80+ thousand words. This is now officially the longest story I've ever written (for now). It's not perfect, it has a lot of flaws. I'm personally of the opinion that the pacing was a bit off, and that at times it went to greater pains to establish the universe it inhabits rather than remaining laser focused on the story.

At the same time though, this is a story whose detail I'm pretty damn proud of. Some of it might have been unnecessary, but ultimately, I kept it because I thought, hey, I wanna see the garden for the roses too.

Where do we go from here? What is ol' FurFur gonna be posting next? For now it's a secret, but the project is _**well**_ underway, and hopefully I'll have it ready to start posting before the month is out! As for what it'll be, I'll leave you with one hint that I'm most excited about "Fox and Krystal." It'll also be inhabiting a separate universe from this story, for those who are concerned with that sort of thing.

What's next for this AU though? Well, someone is gonna have to deal with our bad guys here, and we'll have to see just what the villainous ol' ape is up to. And we're gonna have to get those Arwings flying again. I've got the next story planned out, but I'm gonna be taking a little break from the adventures of James and Vixy over the next few months to focus back on the OTP Fox/Krystal. I've got several stories planned and I've even started working on most of them. Suffice it to say there's a lot more on its way.

Before I go I also want to say a thank you to Groundis Ground Pound Ground, who might as well be my co-author at this point. None of this story would have been possible without him. And, I'd be willing to go so far as to say 99% of the good stuff would never have been thought of without him there to bounce ideas off of. Go read his stuff!

I'd also like to thank those of you who left reviews. I've kept your thoughts in mind, and I'd like to think that I've integrated a lot of the critiques of this story into the next one. Writing is an ever evolving beast, and hopefully I'll be hitting the next level soon.

Thank you one and all! FurFur Out!


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